


Blind Love

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Blind Dean Winchester, Bondage, Bottom Dean, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Donna Hanscum/Jody Mills, Minor Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy/Max Banes, Sex Toys, Smut, Sub Dean, This fic has it all lol, Top Cas, brother bonding, dominant cas, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-02-27 13:02:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 47,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: When Dean is blinded on a hunt, Cas loves him through it.Now complete, with the potential for timestamps in the future <3





	1. Cover Art

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by an anon forever ago and I wrote the first part, and then it turned into my fic for Nanowrimo 2017. I didn’t hit 50k by November 30th, but I’m alright with that. I did a lot of research about how blind people live their day-to-day lives, so hopefully this is at least semi-accurate. I don’t actually know anyone who is blind, though, so I had to rely on the internet. Regardless, I’m very happy with how it turned out and I hope you guys enjoy it, too!
> 
> Cover art by me, betaed by @manawhaat who is an angel for putting up with my constant pestering. I'm like that gif of Chuck looking over Metatron's shoulder while he reads and edits, lol, and Mana is so patient I love her


	2. Chapter One

“Shit, shit, shit,” Dean gasps under his breath, propping himself up against the cave wall. His head is throbbing, like someone is taking a jackhammer to the inside of his skull. His vision seems funny, probably as a result of getting hit on the head. He probably has some kind of concussion, which sucks, but he’ll be okay after some rest and a couple aspirin. Assuming Sam and Cas arrive before the wendigo, ya know,  _ eats him _ .

Speaking of wendigos. The tall, spindly creature is crouched in the doorway of its den, gnawing on the remnants of it’s last victim. It makes an unearthly shrieking noise that sets of a new level of pain in Dean’s head. He bites back a sound, doing his best to not draw attention to himself.

“Hey! Ugly!”

The wendigo’s head snaps up at the sound of Sam’s voice echoing through the old tunnels. It growls low and turns in the direction of the sound, head cocked to listen.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you! Fresh meat! Come and get it!”

Dean chuckles internally.  _ That’s my boy. _

The monster takes off down the tunnel. It’s only been gone moments when a much,  _ much _ smaller, but even more familiar figure appears in the dimly lit entrance.

“Dean?”

“Cas,” he sighs, relaxing. “Over here.”

Cas quickly crosses the cave to kneel by Dean. “Are you okay?” His hands are gentle, brushing over Dean’s face and arms as he checks for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“Head hurts, but other than that, I think I’m good.” He can hear the distant wailing of a wendigo dying and feels a surge of pride for his brother’s skills. “I need a shower, though.”

The former angel nods, pressing a kiss to Dean’s forehead despite the filth he’s probably covered in. “We can do that. Come on, up you go.”

Cas fits himself under Dean’s arm and lifts, helping him into a standing position. Dean’s head swims at the change in elevation, pain spiking through his temples, and then his vision goes black.

* * *

 

“Dean!” Cas cries when Dean goes limp against his side. He staggers, somehow managing to get Dean back to the ground without dropping him. The hunter’s head falls against Cas’ chest, far too still. “No, no, no…”

“Cas, what happened?” Sam asks, rushing into the cave.

“I was helping him to stand and he passed out,” Cas explains, relaxing a little when searching fingers find the steady pulse at his lover’s throat.

“He probably hit his head,” the younger Winchester says. “I’ll help you carry him out. The wendigo is dead, but we should hurry.”

“I agree.”

Together they get Dean out of the tunnels, out of the forest, and into the back seat of the impala. He’s breathing fine, but Cas has a bad feeling. When Dean hasn’t woken by the time they reach the car, Sam agree with his concerns and they take Dean to the nearest hospital. He’s checked into the emergency room immediately, since he’s still unconscious, and the doctor has the other men stay in the waiting room. Cas paces until Sam forces him to sit down.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Sam tells him. “This is Dean. He’ll be okay.”

Cas nods, arms folded tight across his middle like that will calm the twisting in his stomach. “Yeah. He’ll be fine.”

They sit in silence until the doctor comes out to get them. As soon as she emerges from the big doors, Cas is on his feet.

“Well?” he says impatiently. “Is he okay?”

She shakes her head. “He was hit pretty hard and it’s done damage, but we won’t know what damage or how much until he wakes up. He did begin to wake a little while ago and should be more coherent soon.”

“Can we see him?” Sam asks, already turning on what Dean affectionately calls the “puppy dog eyes.”

She nods. “I’m not sure how awake his is right now, but you can go in as long as you don’t do anything to agitate him. Come on, I’ll take you to him.”

Dean is in a room near the rear of the hospital. They have him hooked up to several machines monitoring his vitals and there’s an oxygen cannula in his nose, but his eyes are open. They look foggy, and not just because he’s clearly still half asleep. Something about his eyes doesn’t feel right to Cas.

“Hi, guys,” Dean mumbles, smiling lazily at them. “You look worried. And blurry.”

“You hit your head pretty hard,” Cas tells him.

“Yeah, figured. Hiya, doc,” he shoots a sloppy wink at the doctor that follows the men into the room. “Gimme the news.”

“Well, you’re stable,” she tells him. “But those eyes are concerning me.”

“What, not pretty enough for you?”

“I want someone to take a look at your eyes,” she says, ignoring his awkward attempts at flirting. “Something doesn’t seem right.”

“I think they’re working okay,” Dean tells her. “Think I’m just tired. My head still hurts pretty bad. Got anything for that?”

“Yes, we can give you a painkiller. You probably want to head home, but I want to keep you under observation for at least overnight. You were hit pretty hard and some of the consequences may not have set in yet.”

Dean grumbles, but Cas is inclined to agree with the doctor. He sits by Dean’s bed and holds his hand while the doctor runs some tests, double checking his eyes and carefully feeling his neck for any damage. Sam stands awkwardly to the side, watching with a concerned expression.

Once the doctor leaves, Sam moves to stand on the other side of the bed. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asks.

Dean grins wildly, rolling his head back to look up at his brother. “I feel great, Sammy.”

“I believe that is the morphine talking,” Cas sighs.

* * *

 

The doctor comes back later, when Sam and Cas have gone down to the cafeteria for food and Dean is alone in his room.

“Hey,” she says, leaning her hip against the door frame.

“Hi,” he replies. “I don’t think I got your name.”

“Doctor Richards,” she tells him. “You can call me Briana, if you like.”

“Well, Briana,” he says, “you’ve got more questions, don’t you?”

She nods and crosses the room to stand by the bed. “Are you certain your eyes are okay?”

“They seem pretty okay to me,” he says.

“Would it be alright if I did some tests anyways?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Look, I’ve seen guys like you in here more times than I can count. I know you want to keep playing tough guy. But I have a hunch and I would like to take a closer look.”

Dean sighs and settles back on the pillows. “Sure. Fine. If it means I can be out of here sooner.”

Dr. Richards nods. “Alright.”

* * *

 

Cas comes back while she’s running her tests. The majority were questions about things like disruption in his vision- the fuzziness Dean is now realizing isn’t going away. He knows Cas heard some of the questions and definitely heard Dean’s answers. He can see it on his lover’s face.

“Everything okay?” Cas asks, standing by Dean’s bed and offering a hand. Dean takes it.

Dr. Richards shakes her head. “I’m concerned about Dean’s vision. It could be temporary and clear up by tomorrow, but the blow was to his forehead and that’s never good.”

“It’s possible it could be worse?” the worry in Cas’ voice makes Dean’s heart twist.

“Unfortunately, yes, but we won’t know for certain until tomorrow.”

“If it’s worse,” Dean says carefully, his hold on Cas’ hand tight enough, “is there a treatment?”

She shakes her head sadly. “No. There’s not. I’m sorry, but you’ll be blind.”

* * *

 

Sam takes the news about as well as can be expected, but Cas knows Sam is strong. He’ll figure out a way to deal with this. It’s Dean that Cas is really worried about. He insists on being released from the hospital, which is to be expected seeing as he’s a Winchester, but then he lets Sam drive the Impala home to the bunker and Cas knows Dean is not as okay as he’s trying to be. Cas holds his hand over the back of the bench seat and watched him watch the countryside passing by.

Dean knows Cas is worried. That’s what his boyfriend does best, to be quite honest- worry. He doesn’t know what to say to Cas, so he does what he needs to do for himself. Cas will be okay.

When they reach the Bunker, Dean takes his time washing and waxing the Impala until she’s more beautiful than she’s ever been. Then he wanders around the garage and runs his hands along all the cars, taking in the familiar colors and curves. He makes his way through the library, fingers brushing over the spine of every book he’ll never read again. He does his best to remember his kitchen and the hall to the room he shares with Cas, before making his way back outside. He sits on the ground outside the bunker at stares at the sky until he’s too tired to keep his eyes open any longer.

The second day they’re home, things are worse. Dean spends the entire day following Sam everywhere. He knows his brother- no one knows Sam like Dean does- but he doesn’t want to ever forget a thing. He wants to permanently etch into his mind the way Sam’s hands curl around his coffee mug in the morning, the “I can’t believe we’re related” face he makes when Dean says something he thinks is particularly annoying, the way he tries not to smile because he’s too much of a little brother to laugh at Dean’s jokes. When Sam confronts him, Dean sits his brother down on his bed and just looks. When they emerge from Sam’s room with tear-reddened eyes hours later, Cas doesn’t say anything and Dean is grateful.

The third day is the worst and Dean knows it will be the last. He goes through the bunker over and over again. He spends hours sitting in the impala or outside. He holds his brother’s face in his hands and carves the smile of the man he raised into his eyelids. When those things are done, he walks Cas down to their bedroom and takes his time memorizing every inch of the love of his life. After, when they’re lying together with bare skin pressed close, he memorizes blue.

The fourth day, Dean wakes up and his world is black. Cas holds him and Dean cries.

* * *

 

Dean shuts down. Sam and Cas aren’t sure what to do for him. He refuses to leave his bed for anything other than the bathroom, unseeing eyes squeezed shut as if that will make any difference and the blankets pulled tight under his chin. Cas sits on the edge of the bed and strokes his hair and talks him into eating some of the food Sam brings. Cas knows how helpless Sam feels- the way it stabs at his heart and tries to claw out of his chest, out his throat into words of frustration and anger they both know will do more harm than good.

“Dean,” Cas sighs. His lover’s hair is greasy beneath his hand and he knows the sheets stick, though he’s grown accustomed to it over the last few days. “Dean, come with me.”

He shakes his head and Cas’ throat tightens.

“Dean, please,” he whispers. “ _ Please _ .” he pulls the blankets back, knocking away Dean’s hands when he tries to fight. “Come with me.”

Dean gives in then, but it’s reluctant. He lets Cas tug him to his feet, lets himself be led like a while down the hall to the bathroom, lets himself be stripped naked and stood under the water when it’s warm enough to soothe his goosebumps. Cas quickly sheds his own clothing and joins his lover, wrapping steady arms around his waist and pulling him back to front. Dean covers Cas’ hands with his own, leaning into the embrace and relaxing a little beneath the soft kissed Cas presses along his shoulders.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas tells him, fingertips stroking over one sharp hip bone. “I know this isn’t easy, I know things will never be the way they were before. I wish I could,” he lifts a hand to press two fingers to Dean’s forehead. “fix it. But I can’t, so I’ll do what I know I can do- and that’s love you.”

“You’ve always been good at that,” Dean says quietly. They’re the first words he’s spoken since he sight disappeared completely and they’re music to Cas’ ears.

“It’s what I was made to do,” Cas murmurs. He rocks them gently, holding on a little tighter. “This is where you belong. Right here, in my arms. The world could come crashing down around us and it wouldn’t matter, as long as I have you.”

Dean makes a soft, strangled noise and turns to face Cas. He loops his arms around Cas’ waist and buries his face in the shorter man’s shoulder. They stand there a long time and Cas is grateful for whatever magic the Men of Letters worked on their water heater, because when Dean finally straightens up the water is still hot.

“Help me shower?” Dean asks, trying for playfulness through his uncertainty.

“Of course,” Cas tells him.

It’s not the first time he’s washed Dean in the shower and it probably won’t be the last, but this time is different. Dean is like a newborn- unsteady, unsure, likely more than a little scared, almost trembling under the water as he waits for Cas to do what he wants. The trust Dean has in him is incredible.

Cas strokes his hands up and down Dean’s arms. “I’m going to step away, but I’ll be back.”

Dean nods. Cas reluctantly moves away to grab the two-in-one he forgot to get before they were under the water. He comes back quickly, letting Dean lean against him while he pours a small amount into his palm. He gently works it into Dean’s hair, massaging his scalp as he does so. Dean moans softly and melts under his hands, arms coming up around Cas’ waist again.

Cas tips Dean’s head back to rinse his hair before moving on to his body. He gently cleans Dean with a worn-soft wash cloth and some body wash Dean picked up once and got attached to.

“Feeling better?” Cas asks when all the suds are rinsed away.

“A little,” Dean says.

“Feel up to going to the kitchen?”

Dean shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe.”

Cas dries them both off and they walk hand in hand back to their room. Cas picks out a worn Led Zeppelin tee and a pair of soft sweatpants for his lover. When they’re dressed, he loops his arm around Dean’s middle and leads him back into the hall.

“If you change your mind, tell me,” Cas says. “It’s okay. I won’t be mad.”

“Okay.”

Sam is standing at the counter, staring at the coffee pot as it drips. He turns when they enter the room and a mix of emotions Cas can’t decipher flash across his face.

“Dean,” he says, the relief in his voice almost tangible. “Hey. Good to see you up.”

“Hi, Sam,” Dean responds, head turning towards his brother’s voice. “Is the coffee ready?”

“Not yet, but it should be in a minute.” Sam doesn’t seem to know what he should be doing, besides just looking. Cas knows he hasn’t really seen Dean these last few days- Dean doesn’t like Sam in their shared room because it’s a safe space for him and Cas, and the younger brother is always sure to respect that wish, never going past the doorway. “How… how are you doing?”

Dean makes a face. “I’m blind, Sam. How do you  _ think _ I’m doing?”

Sam reddens and ducks his head. “I’m sorry, that was insensitive. I just… haven’t seen you in a few day and was worried.”

The older Winchester sighs. “Yeah, I know. I just… I don’t know how I’m doing, but I guess being a dick isn’t gonna help,” he huffs, almost a laugh. “C’mere.”

Looking a little surprised, Sam moves closer until he reaches Dean’s outstretched hand. As soon as his fingers come into contact with Sam’s flannel, Dean takes hold and reels his brother in for a tight hug.

“Thank you for still being here,” he sighs, clinging to the tall man with a desperation Cas hates to see.

Sam makes a soft sound and presses his nose to Dean’s shoulder, huddled in like the little brother he is. “Nowhere else I would rather be.”


	3. Chapter Two

Dean knows Cas is worried.

After his initial venture into the kitchen, Dean wants to go straight back to their room. Cas leads him there, but Dean knows there’s a concerned furrow in his brow. Dean ignores it for the moment, slipping beneath the blankets and pulling his lover down with him. Cas goes easily, fitting himself against Dean’s back. The weight of his arm is solid over Dean’s waist, fingers playing along the hem of Dean’s shirt.

“Talk to me,” Cas says softly, breath warm against the side of Dean’s neck.

“I’m fine,” Dean mumbles, weaving his fingers through Cas’ and pulling their hands up against his chest.

“You’re not fine.” Cas pulls at Dean hand until he rolls to face his lover. Dean immediately ducks his head down, hiding his face in Cas’ shoulder. “Dean, sweetheart, I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t tell me anything. Please.” Gently lips brush against the top of Dean’s head as Cas speaks. “Please, Dean. Don’t push me away.”

Dean bites his lip, breathing deeply to try and fight down the tears threatening to spill over. “I don’t… I’m not pushing…”

“You are. It’s what you do, part of who you are. But not this time. You can’t do that this time. I know you want to, but you can’t do this on your own and it’s okay to admit that. Do you hear me?”

Dean nods. He hates to admit it, but Cas is right. If he wants to get through this, he needs the support of the people closest to him.

“It’s too much,” Dean whispers, tilting his chin to rest his lips against Cas’ collarbone.

“What’s too much?”

“Everything.” Dean curls his fingers into the front of Cas’ shirt- he guesses, from the feel, that it’s actually one of his own shirts that Cas has commandeered for himself. It must have been a while ago, because the age-softened fabric doesn’t smell like Dean. It’s all Castiel.

“Do you want to be more specific?” Cas inquires, tone soothing.

“It’s… it’s like all my senses are working harder.”

“That’s understandable. They’re working to make up for the loss of a sense.”’

“But everything is just so…  _ loud _ .” The word only really describes one sense, but it also seems to fit everything Dean is experiencing.

“Ah.”

Cas rolls them so Dean is lying on top of him, thighs falling on either side of Cas’ legs. He wraps both arms around Dean’s back, tugging the blankets up to cover them, and holds on tight.

“Just lay here, then,” Cas murmurs. “Lay with me and let yourself feel it. Okay?”

Dean sighs deeply, already feeling some of the tension leaving his body. “Okay.”

Cas’ arms are strong, cradling Dean against his body like he’s a small child. Dean focuses on the feeling of Cas- the sound of his breath, the musky smell of him on his clothes, the solid support of his body, the faint, barely felt- barely heard until Dean really searches for it- beating of Cas’ heart.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas tells him. “You know that, right?”’

“Yeah-” Dean breathes- “I know.”

“I won’t let you forget it.”

Dean smiles. “Okay.”

* * *

 

Slowly, Dean’s senses adjust. Sometimes things get overwhelming again, but Cas is always ready with a firm hand and soothing words. Until he’s not.

“Dammit,” Dean mutters to himself, gripping tight at the door frame. He’s been standing there far too long, having only barely managed to make it there in the first place, but he’s not sure if he can go anywhere else except maybe back to the bed.

“Dean?”

He startles at the sound of his brother’s voice, cursing under his breath again. “Hi, Sam.”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Dean leans to one side, trying to look casual and knowing he’s failing.

“ _ Dean _ .”

He knows Sam has pulled out the puppy eyes, even if he can’t see them. “Alright, fine. I was trying to go find Cas, but I realized I’ll probably get lost.”

“Cas went to the store, remember?”

Dammit, Sam’s right. Before Dean took a nap, Cas mentioned something about that. “Do you…” Dean licks his lips, trying not to let the sudden rising panic show. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Well, a pretty bad storm kicked up, so probably not for a while. Do you need something? Maybe I can help?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, no, it’s not a big deal, I just-”

“Was feeling a bit overwhelmed?” Sam finishes.

“How the hell do you know about that?”

“Cas told me. I was worried, Dean. You haven’t really been talking to me since this whole thing began. Can you blame me for asking Cas?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I’m cool with you knowing.”

“Well, now I know. Look, do you want my help or do you want to wait for Cas to get home?”

Dean hesitates. On the one hand, he’s been working so hard to keep Sam out of this whole mess. On the other, he’s not sure he can handle it until Cas gets home, especially since he doesn’t know how long that will take.

“It’s okay if you want to wait, Dean. I understand. This is kind of a personal thing between you and-”

“Yes.”

“Really? You’ll let me help?”

Dean nods, drawing a deep breath to steady himself. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Sam seems to be barely containing his excitement. “Alright. Okay. What do you want me to do?”

“Can we… can we just sit together and listen to music?” Dean feels so awkward, asking his brother for this because Sam’s right. It has kinda become his and Cas’ “thing”.

“Yeah, of course. Where do you want to go?”

“I, um… here is okay. We can use my record player.”

Dean leads the way back to the bed, managing to not stumble too much when his knees hit the edge of the mattress. He can hear Sam behind him, already moving to Dean’s collection of vinyls.

“Is there something specific you want to hear?” Sam asks as Dean gets on the bed and sits against the headboard.

“Zeppelin,” Dean ways without hesitation.

Sam chuckles and Dean can picture the exasperated little brother expression in his mind’s eye. He hears Sam pull the record out and put it on the player. Seconds later, the sound of Jimmy’s guitar fills the room. Dean can feel himself relaxing almost instantly. Sam sits beside Dean on the bed, their shoulders pressed together.

“Is this okay?” Sam asks, keeping his voice quiet.

Dean nods, leaning a little to press closer to his brother. “Yeah. This is okay. You can… you can put your arm around me.”

Sam hesitate a second before lifting his arm and looping it around Dean’s shoulders. His head fits against the curve of Sam’s muscles and he takes a deep breath of that exclusively-Sammy smell he would know anywhere.

“Been a long time since we did this,” Dean murmurs, turning his head toward Sam.

“Yeah. Too long. I used to beg Dad to let us share a bed. Remember that?”

“Course I remember. He never could resist those puppy eyes, could he.”

“I think it was the logic of saving money by having only one motel room instead of two.”

“Nah, it was definitely the puppy eyes.”

Sam laughs, a sound Dean feels as much as hears. “Yeah. Alright.”

They sit in silence after that, just enjoying the closeness. If Cas comes home to find Dean snoring softly into Sam’s chest, soothed into sleep by the familiar music and his brother’s heartbeat against his cheek, well, no one else has to know.


	4. Chapter Three

Dean allows Cas to lead him out into the Bunker for longer periods of time. Slowly. He still doesn’t like being alone, though. The bunker is so big, so empty, and he’s not very good at identifying potential threats, which makes everything a potential threat. When he’s alone it quickly becomes overwhelming without something to help ground himself- fix himself to as a point of reference in the ocean of empty darkness. Hopefully he’ll get better at this with time. He hates being such a burden on his brother and boyfriend. They say they don’t mind, but Dean knows they do. They’re just to nice too say anything about it.

Maybe it would be easier if he was able to get around on his own. The bunker if just such a huge, complex building, Dean’s afraid to take the walk down the hall to the bathroom even though he’s done it hundreds of times.

“I’m sorry,” he says one night, lying beside Cas in the bed.

It’s been almost two weeks since he lost his sight. Cas has been endlessly patient, far more than Dean deserves. Sam has been, too, but he left to meet Jody and Donna for a hunt earlier. He told Jody that Dean wasn’t feeling well and she almost dropped everything to come help him, but luckily Sam was able to ward her off. Dean’s not ready to have anyone, no matter how much he loves them, see him like this yet. However, he’s now feeling even  _more_ useless than before, knowing that Sam is out there hunting without him. He tries not to show it and hurt his brother more than he already has.

“For what?” The mattress shifts as Cas rolls, most likely to face Dean.

“All this. You… you should be out there, hunting. Helping people. Not here with me.”

“Dean, there’s nowhere else I would rather be.” Cas presses chapped, but soft lips to Dean’s temple. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.”

“I’m useless, Cas. I can’t even get around the bunker on my own.”

“Well, let’s teach you how.”

“Teach me how?”

“Yes. I read online that blind people learn to find their way around a space they spend a lot of time in- like their home. It’ll take time, but I think you can do it.”

Dean sighs, fumbling on the bed next to him until Cas is catching his hand. “You think?” Dean asks, voice quiet.

“I do. You’re smart, Dean. If anyone can do it, you can. It’s not gonna be easy, but I’ll be there to help you with it. I promise.”

Dean nods, holding tight to Cas’ hand. “Okay. We’ll try it.”

Cas smiles into Dean’s soft hair. “Thank you. I think learning to be more independent will be really good for you, Dean. There’s a lot you can do on your own, once we figure out systems that work for you. We can organize the bathroom, the dresser, your desk, the kitchen-”

“Cas,” Dean huffs, that voice just a tad more gruff than it was when he could see his boyfriend’s face. Turning to curl his arm over Cas’ waist and rest their foreheads together, he keeps his eyes closed, just feeling the puff of Cas’ breath and the bump of their noses. “One thing at a time. Please.”

He has a feeling tomorrow is not going to be pretty. At least Cas will be the only one around to watch Dean make a fool of himself.

* * *

 

Cas is  _far_ too optimistic about this endeavour.

Dean growls angrily, hopping back when he stubs his toe for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Hey,” Cas says soothingly, one hand landing in the small of Dean’s back. “You’re rushing, sweetheart. These things take time.”

Dean rubs a hand over his face. “I know, it’s just… I feel so fucking useless.”

“You’re not useless, Dean.”

“I am and you know it. Sam’s off hunting on his own-”

“- he’s not on his own, he’s with Jody and Donna-”

“I meant without us, Cas!” Dean braces himself against the table he knocked his foot against just moments before. “I know Jody and Donna are great hunters, but Sam hasn’t hunted without me in years, and dammit, I hate it!”

“Dean,” Cas sighs, looping one arm around Dean’s waist and pulling him in. His other hand comes up to cradle the back of Dean’s head, guiding him to rest against Cas’ shoulder.

“I should be out there helping him,” Dean chokes out, letting go to of the table to grip the soft t-shirt Cas is wearing.

“Dean. Sam is one of the best hunters I know and he has two equally amazing hunters-in-training on his side. He’s going to be just fine. Your job right now is to focus on you.”

“I don’t-”

“  _Dean._ ”

The hunter snaps his mouth shut, hiding his face against Cas’ collarbone. He lets himself lean into his lover, breathing deeply until his heart stops racing and his hands aren’t shaking.

“Ready to try again?” Cas asks, gently petting Dean’s hair.

Dean sighs. “I guess.”

“What if we try something a little different?” Cas steps back and brings his other hand up to cradle Dean’s face, foreheads resting together. “I got something the other day, something for you. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to, but I don’t think it would hurt to try. Can I go get it?”

Dean bites his lip, and then nods. He braces his hands against the edge of the table, focusing on his breathing when Cas leaves the room. Being alone still scares the shit out of him, between his inability to see anything and his heightened other senses. It feels like any tiny sound could be a threat.

Thankfully, Cas isn’t gone long. He approaches carefully, letting Dean know he’s there without startling him.

“Remember, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Cas tells him, pressing a foreign object into Dean’s hands.

Dean frowns, curling his fingers around the item. It’s long- very long- and slender, made of what feels like some kind of metal- it’s cool against his skin- and capped on one end with a handle and a thin strap probably intended to loop around the user’s wrist.

“Is this… a cane?” he asks, reaching out with one hand to grab at Cas’ shirt.

“It is.”

“What the hell, Cas?” Dean can’t help the sudden wave of anger and frustration that rises up in his chest. He knows logically that the cane is a good idea, but he should be able to figure this out on his own. He’s a grown ass man and a hunter for crying out loud. He should know his way around his own home.

“Dean.” Cas’ voice is level, soothing. “You don’t have to use it. But would it hurt to try?”

Dean growls, holding the cane so tight his fingers hurt. He hates to admit it, but Cas is right. It doesn’t hurt to try.

“Fine,” he spits out. “I’ll try it. But it’s not going to work.”

He can  _hear_ Cas rolling his eyes. “If you say so.”

Dean presses his shoulder against Cas’ chest, freeing both his hands to grip the cane. He turns it until the handle points up, fitting into his palm. He loops the strap around his wrist, making sure that if he drops the cane he won’t lose it.

“Ready?” Cas asks, hand solid against Dean’s lower back.

“Sure.”

Dean carefully taps the nylon-covered end of the cane against the floor, feeling the vibrations up his arm. He swings it and stops when it hits a hard vertical surface.

“Table leg?” he inquires.

“Table leg,” Cas verifies.

Dean nods, feeling a little proud of himself, quickly covering it up with his half-grumpy face that he doesn’t realize Cas can see past. Maybe this won’t be as bad as he thinks.


	5. Chapter Four

If there’s one thing Dean didn’t expect to be difficult, it’s getting dressed.

The first time he trips himself putting on his own boxers is absolutely humiliating. Cas is right there, helping him up and onto the bed.

“Are you okay?” Cas asks.

“Yeah, just wounded my pride,” Dean grumbles. “Didn’t realize the boxers were all twisted.”

“I understand.” Cas takes the fabric from his hands. Dean hears the sound of them being shaken out. “Here, try them now.”

With everything untwisted, the boxers go on easily. Dean sighs and rubs his hand over his face.

“This is so much harder than I thought it would be,” he admits.

“Well, let’s find a way to make things easier. If we keep everything folded, then we won’t have to worry as much about stuff getting twisted.”

“Makes sense. We should find a way I can identify different clothes, too.”

“I can help you pick stuff to wear.”

“And when you’re not there?” Dean leans his shoulder against Cas’. “I need to be able to figure it out on my own.”

“Well, there has to be some method out there that we can adapt for you. Right?”

Dean nods. “Yeah. Other blind people manage to get dressed all on their own just fine. There’s gotta be something.”

“I can do some research, if you like.”

“You don’t mind?” Dean tilts his head toward Cas, nose rubbing against the fabric of his lover’s trench coat.

“Of course not. We’ll reconvene on this matter tonight.”

Dean chuckles. “Alright. Sounds like a plan.”

* * *

 

Cas comes back to him with a method that uses safety pins to identify colors. He went to the store and bought a huge bag of safety pins. Together, they work out a system of a certain number of pins for each color and then use the system to organize Dean’s part of the dresser.

“It’s gonna take me a while to remember all these,” Dean tells Cas, letting his fingers run over the lines of safety pins on his neatly folded clothes.

“That’s okay. You’ll get it eventually. There are braille tags we can get, too, if you want to learn braille.”

“Fucking braille? Learning braille would be impossible.”

“Don’t say that.” Cas loops his arms around Dean’s waist from behind, rubbing his nose against the base of his skull. “It would take a long time, yes, but it would not be impossible. We can learn it together.”

“Yeah, well, one thing at a time. I only just figured out how to get around the bunker on my own.”

“Of course.” Cas plants a kiss where his nose was. “One thing at a time.”

Dean leans back against his lover with a sigh, covering Cas’ hands with his own. “You’re too good to me.”

“No such thing.”

“Cas-”

“You deserve the world, Dean. I just want to give it to you.”

Dean can feel the heat rising in his cheeks and ducks his head a little. “Whatever.”

Cas huffs against the back of his neck. “Someday you’ll believe me.”

“Okay.” Dean turns in Cas’ arms, tucking his head into the other man’s shoulder and resting his hands on Cas’ chest, and breathes in deep. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

Dean chuckles. “Thanks, Cas.”

Cas tilts his head to press a soft kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. It’s the closest they’ve come to an actual kiss since Dean lost his sight and Dean’s not sure how he feels about it. He wants to be intimate with Cas- he really does- but he doesn’t feel comfortable with it yet and he can’t figure out how to explain why. So he turns his face further into Cas’ shoulder.

“Dean, is everything okay?” Cas asks, fingers curling around the back of his neck and rubbing gently.

“Yeah,” Dean mumbles.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Cas brings his hands up to cup Dean’s face, bringing their foreheads together.

“I know.”

Thumbs stroke over Dean’s cheekbones. He closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. He can feel how concerned Cas is.

“It feels like you’re pushing me away,” Cas tells him. “I want to support you through this, but I can’t if you won’t let me.”

“I’m fine, Cas,” Dean grits out.

“You’re not ‘fine’, Dean.” Cas’ voice is hard, impatient. “Stop lying to me. I’m not stupid. I know you’re not okay and I want to help you, but you’re not letting me.”

Dean clenches his fists against Cas’ chest. “I just need to figure all this out on my own.”

“But you don’t have to.”

“I know, but I  _ need _ to.”

Cas falls silent, still holding Dean’s face. Dean knows Cas is hurt, but he doesn’t understand and Dean doesn’t know how to explain, and he just wants Cas to leave it be.

“Okay,” Cas says quietly. “Okay. I’m gonna… go see if Sam needs help with anything.”

Before Dean can respond, Cas pulls away. Dean hears the door close and suddenly he’s alone.

“Fuck,” he breathes, stumbling to the bed. He sits on the edge and rubs his hands over his face. He messed up and he knows it, and now he doesn’t know how to fix it.

* * *

 

Cas avoids Dean until bedtime. It hurts, but they both need their space right now. Still, when Cas crawls into bed beside him and curls his arms around Dean’s waist, it’s the happiest Dean’s been all day.

“‘M sorry,” he murmurs, fingers in Cas’ shirt.

“I know,” Cas sighs. “I just wish you would talk to me.”

“You know I’m no good at that.”

Cas rests their cheeks together. “That’s a lie.”

“Yeah, well I’m definitely good at those.”

Cas huffs softly. “Unfortunately.”

Dean kisses Cas’ cheek and shifts away. “I love you. I don’t say it enough, but I do.”

“I know.”

Now it’s Dean’s turn to laugh, shoving gently at Cas’ shoulder. “Did you just Han Solo me?”

“I might have.”

“I’m not sure if I should be proud or pissed.”

“Well,” Cas says slowly. “You could just kiss me.”

Dean stiffens, drawing back even further. “Cas, I-”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed.” A gentle hand lands on his cheek. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to, Cas, I really do, I just… I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”

“Hey, hey,” Cas soothes, running his hand through Dean’s hair. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“I just… I think I’m scared,” Dean finally admits.

“That’s alright,” Cas tells him. “You’re going through something difficult. This is a big change for all of us, but you in particular, and it’s going to be slow going for a while. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have pushed you. I need to remember to be patient while you figure out your feelings.”

Dean nods, scooting closer and tucking his head under Cas’ chin. He drops a kiss at the base of his lover’s throat and feels the tension melt from Cas’ body.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know this isn’t easy and I’m only making things harder.”

“Dean. What did I just tell you?”

Dean can’t help a smirk. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Go to sleep. Things will be better in the morning.”

“You think so?”

Cas presses his lips to the top of Dean’s head. “I do.”

* * *

 

Cas loves when he wakes up before Dean. Sleep is the only time the older Winchester looks truly peaceful, not to mention being completely adorable. His hair is messy, sticking up all over the place, and soft because he washed the gel out last night. He’s had a stuffy nose this week and is snoring today, quiet sounds that are more cute than annoying. Cas lays there are watches until Dean begins to stir.

“Good morning,” he says, keeping his voice low.

Dean hums and snuggles against Cas’ chest. “Mornin’. Were you watching me sleep again?”

“Maybe.”

The man snorts, breath warm through Cas’ t-shirt. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I know. I remind myself every day.”

“Mmm, sap.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

Cas pets Dean’s hair. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Dunno. Probably explore the bunker some more. Practice with that… cane.”

Cas notes the hesitation in Dean’s voice. “It’s okay to use it, Dean. Most blind people do. There’s no reason to be ashamed of it.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to my pride,” Dean grumbles.

“Hey, you’re doing great. You’re learning very quickly and we’re finding new ways to do things- to make things easier for you. It hasn’t been very long, but you’ve already progressed so much. It’s impressive.” Cas kisses Dean’s forehead. “I’m proud of you.”

Dean ducks his head. “Thanks.”

“How are you feeling today?” Cas asks, sitting up against the headboard and pulling Dean with him.

“Better,” Dean tells him. “Not back to normal. Still not sure of some things. But better.”

“That’s good. It’s a process. Just let it happen naturally.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re doing great.”


	6. Chapter Five

“Morning,” Sam says when Dean and Cas enter the kitchen.

“Mornin’,” Dean replies, finding his way to the table without too much difficulty and sitting down.

“Coffee?”

“‘Course.”

Sam chuckles. “Gotcha. Any plans for today?”

Dean shakes his head, curling his hands around the mug Sam sets in front of him and letting the warmth seep into his fingers. The bunker has a chill that seeps into his bones- which makes him sound like an old person, so he’s going to pretend he didn’t actually think that- and he needs to have Sam take a look at the heater sometime today. Kid was always good at fixing things like that. “Just planning on exploring the bunker and practicing with the cane,” he tells Sam. “Why?”

“Wanna go for a drive?”

The words have Dean’s heart leaping into his throat and his stomach twisting, but he does his best to appear nonchalant about it. “A drive?” Dean lifts an eyebrow in the direction of Sam’s voice. “To where?”

“Nowhere. Just get in the car and drive. It’s been a long time since we’ve done that.”

“Yeah, because I can’t drive anymore,” Dean grumbles, setting his mug down loudly. He gets up before Sam can respond and leaves the kitchen, grabbing Cas and tripping a little on the steps as he goes.

* * *

 

“Dean,” Cas says as he’s pulled down the hallways. He’s ignored until he really pulls back. “Dean,  _ stop _ .”

Dean comes to an unsteady halt, free hand bracing against the wall. “I don’t want to talk about it, Cas. Just help me back to the bedroom.”

Cas sighs, but obeys.

 

When Dean is settled in their room, Cas returns to the kitchen. Sam is sitting at the table, staring at Dean’s abandoned coffee.

“I didn’t mean to upset him,” the younger Winchester says quietly.

“I know,” Cas murmurs, sitting down and laying a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. “Dean just… he’s going through a lot right now.”

“I know,” Sam says. “He’s scared and doesn’t know how to deal with it. Doesn’t help that he can’t fill the roles he’s used to. Being helpless never did go well for him.”

Cas huffs. “Yes and that should be good for him in the long run. Just… not right now.”

Sam nods. “Just gotta keep reminding myself of that.”

* * *

 

Dean’s not in the bedroom when Cas returns with food and fresh coffee in the hopes that a full stomach will brighten his lover’s mood. The flutter of panic dissipates when he sees that the cane is gone as well and suddenly he has a hunch that he knows exactly where Dean is. He grabs the impala keys from on top of the dresser and sets out to find his boyfriend.

Cas makes his way through the halls, the library, and then up the stairs to the garage. It takes a little maneuvering to get the door open and he almost spills coffee down his front, but he manages it. Dean is exactly where Cas figured he would be- the driver’s seat of the impala. His cane is on the ground next to the car, lying cockeyed like it was thrown. It probably was. His hands are on the wheel, white-knuckling it so hard that his arms are slightly trembling even though the car isn’t even on. His eyes are closed, his head bowed to rest his forehead against the top of the wheel between his hands. As Cas watches, Dean lets out a roar as much angry as it is painful, letting go with one hand only to slam it against the wheel so hard it has to hurt. The sound he’s making only intensifies, turning into a howl as he beats the wheel until the fire in him dulls. 

Cas had been glued to his spot watching Dean, but the heartbreak pushes him forward and he lets the door slam shut behind him, giving Dean fair warning that someone is on their way. Dean’s raging noises break off with choked out sobs, and the sound of Dean swallowing that rage is somehow worse than hearing it flat out. It tears Cas’ heart to shreds and sinks it to the bottom of his stomach.

“Dean,” he says quietly, carefully approaching the car. He’s glad the windows are rolled down. “I brought you some food and coffee.”

“Not hungry,” the other man mumbles, barely audible.

“Well, that’s not true.” Cas holds the plate of food just inside the window. As soon as Dean gets a whiff of the bacon, his stomach rumbles.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little hungry,” he admits, sitting up. He wipes his eyes hastily before taking the plate.

Cas pretends he doesn’t notice. “I figured. Can I sit by you?”

Dean nods, mouth full of bacon and eggs already. Cas quickly rounds the car to slide into the passenger’s seat.

They sit in silence while Dean eats and drinks his coffee. When he’s finished, he sets the dishes on the ground by his cane and sits back in the seat.

“I miss it,” he admits after a long moment.

“Driving?” Cas clarifies.

“Yeah.”

“Of course you do. Driving is one of your passions, Dean, and this car specifically. This is a big change. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I miss… I miss the sound of the engine and the open road. The wind on my face. The power beneath my hands.” Said hands curl around the steering wheel once more. “This is my home, Cas. My  _ home _ . I don’t… I don’t know what to do without it.”

Cas reaches over and lays a steady hand on Dean’s thigh. “I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t know how to help you.”

Dean nods, unseeing eyes pointed at his lap. “Not much you can do.”

“I wish I could just-” Cas taps two fingers against Dean’s forehead- “fix it.”

Dean catches Cas’ hand in his own and holds it to his lips, and they sit like that while Dean steadies his breathing. When he’s ready, he releases Cas’ hand and moves to get out of the car.

“I have the keys,” Cas says, stopping Dean in his tracks. “If… if you want to turn her on.”

Dean draws a deep, slow breath before speaking. “I don’t… know if that’s a good idea.”

“You don’t have to. I just thought I would suggest it.”

“I don’t think I can do that right now, Cas.” The older Winchester picks up his cane. “Can you take the dishes back to the kitchen?”

Cas does his best to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Of course.”

* * *

 

Sam is sitting in the map room. He shoots to his feet when Dean comes down the stairs. Cas gives him a “not now” look, but Sam ignores it.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” the younger brother says, stopping the older one in his tracks. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I should’ve thought before I… ya know.”

Dean shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have been so harsh. You’re just trying to help.”

Sam nods, stepping back. “I’m still sorry. But if you ever change your mind, the offer’s still open.”

The sound Dean makes sounds like it’s supposed to be a laugh, but it comes out all wrong and makes Cas cringe. “Yeah. Okay.”

He crosses the library quickly and vanishes down the hall, leaving Sam and Cas standing by the map table.

“I’m gonna see if I can find a hunt,” Sam says, though he doesn’t sound very sure of his decision.

“Okay,” Cas replies. “I’ll help you. I think Dean just needs some space.”

* * *

 

It takes a week for Dean to come around. One afternoon he walks into the library and drops the keys to the impala in the center of the book Sam is reading. Sam looks up, startled.

“Dean?” he asks.

“She’s…” Dean’s voice breaks and Sam’s heart breaks along with it. “She’s yours. Try not to ride the brakes too hard, okay?”

“Dean, no-”

“I can’t drive my own damn car, Sam. Just… look, the oil needs to be changed in a week or so. I can have Cas send you my info to all my car forums where I get whatever parts she needs. Just promise you’ll take good care of her?”

“Of course I will, Dean, but you’re going to help me. I can’t figure all this out on my own.”

“Sam, I can’t-”

“You  _ can _ . Don’t say you can’t unless you’ve tried. Sure, you probably won’t be able to be as hands on, but you’re gonna have to teach me all this stuff.” Sam grabs Dean’s wrist and presses the keys into his palm. “That’s your job, right? Gotta show your little brother the ropes?”

Dean manages a nod. His beautiful, useless eyes are wet and he quickly wipes them. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

Sam grins. “Awesome. Wanna go for a drive?”

Dean takes a deep breath and Sam holds his own, waiting for his brother’s response. “Sure,” Dean finally says. “Let’s go.”

* * *

 

Dean hasn’t spent a lot of time in the passenger seat since John first gave him the car. It always feels really backward to let Sam drive. Some things never change, though, no matter which side of the car he’s on. The rumble of the engine still falls over him like a comfortable blanket, enveloping him in the sounds of home.

“Where to?” Sam asks, pulling out of the garage with the same carefulness he had when he was first learning to drive. Dean appreciates his cautiousness.

“Anywhere,” Dean decides. “Just drive, Sammy.”

Sam’s mouth quirks up a bit as he turns to his brother. “You got it.”

The sun falls through the windshield, warming Dean’s skin for the first time since he lost his sight, and it’s providing a perfect balance to the cool breeze coming through his window. The air is clean and fresh, and he’s pretty sure it rained not too long ago. He closes his eyes and leans against the door, just allowing himself to feel, and suddenly things don’t seem quite so bad. As long as he’s still got his brother and his car and the open road and his lover waiting for him at home, maybe things will actually turn out okay.


	7. Chapter Six

When they return to the bunker that evening, Cas is waiting.

“How was the drive?” he asks, pressing that goddamn cane into Dean’s hand and a kiss to his cheek.

“Just what I needed,” Dean admits.

“Good. Dinner is ready, if you’re hungry.”

Dean nudges his lover playfully. “I’m sorry, have you met me?”

Cas laughs and it’s the best sound Dean’s heard aside from his Baby’s engine. “Of course, how could I forget. Come on, let’s eat and you can tell me about where you went.”

* * *

 

Dean is in a much better mood now that he and Sam have worked some things out. There’s still some lingering tension and Dean still gets grumpy, but he’s doing his best to stay positive. It’s far from being an easy lifestyle, but it’s getting easier and having an outlet for his cabin fever certainly helps things. He still feels useless, though, especially when Sam starts going on more and more hunts without Dean.

Dean starts spending time in the gym Sam set up. He never really used the room before, he’s still not sure what exactly Sam’s put in there, but he manages to find a punching bag over a mat without stubbing his toe on anything. There’s a bench against one wall and he puts his cane on it. He finds wraps for his hands on a shelf by the bench. Once his hands are properly wrapped and his muscles are warmed up, he squares off against the punching bag.

He’s never been big on punching bags, preferring one-on-one training more, but he discovers quickly that some solo work is a good way to vent his frustrations without taking it out on Sam or Cas. He’s starting to wonder, though, if he can learn to fight with the four sense he has. He’s already getting better at knowing when someone’s coming and where they are in the room. It would make sense to be able to use that to his advantage in a fight. Like a discount Daredevil or something.

“I want to learn how to fight,” Dean tells Cas that night when they’re crawling into bed.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Cas asks.

“Well, it couldn’t hurt, right?” Dean points out, tucking himself against Cas’ chest. “I’m never going to hunt again, but I need to know how to defend myself.”

“I suppose,” Cas admits. “It won’t be easy.”

“Nothing’s easy anymore, Cas. The sooner I accept that, the better off I’ll be.”

Cas chuckles. “You’re very right.”

“I know,” Dean says smugly.

“And so modest,” Cas laughs.

* * *

 

They start simple, working on Dean’s ability to tell if someone is coming and where they’re coming from. Sam suggest they blindfold Dean, even though he can’t see anyways, because that’s how John helped them hone those skills when they were younger. Cas is confused by it, but Dean understands and agrees. That’s what he knows and is accustomed to, so it’s a good jumping off point for learning to fight completely blind.

He’s a little out of practice, they discover, and it only takes moments for Sam to get Dean pinned to the mat on the floor of the gym. All the exercise equipment has been moved aside, leaving plenty of room for the two large men to spar. Cas is sitting on the bench, keeping a close eye on the brothers.

“Get off me,” Dean grumbles, shoving at Sam’s chest.

“You good?” Sam asks, getting up and pulling Dean with him.

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go again.”

By the time they finish for the day, Dean is sore and his pride is definitely a little wounded, but he’s already improving. It took Sam much longer to get the upper hand on the last round. Dean still went down, but he went down slower and that’s what’s important in his opinion.

“That was good,” he says, wiping his face with a towel and taking a deep swallow from the water bottle Cas gives him.

“Yeah?” Sam asks.

“Yeah. Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Sam punches Dean’s shoulder. “It’s a date.”

Dean makes a face, but there’s no malice in it. “Ew.”

He knows Sam is rolling his eyes and Cas is making a fond expression, and it’s good. It feels good. Dean wants to keep that feeling for as long as he can.

* * *

 

Their next sessions don’t go quite as well. Progress slows down and Dean quickly becomes frustrated with himself. Sam and Cas are patient, though, and ease him through his worst moods. What he did to deserve them, he’s not sure, but he doesn’t want to know where he would be without them, so he forces himself to push aside his pride and lets them help, no matter how hard it is.

“This is stupid,” he grumbles after one particularly rough session, sitting on the bench and stretching his legs in front of him.

“This was your idea,” Sam points out.

“Yeah, well, my ideas are stupid.”

“Dean,” Sam sighs. “It’s a great idea, it’s just slow going. Gotta be patient, remember.”

Dean grits his teeth, but nods. “Yeah, I remember.”

“You’re doing great, really. I’m really impressed.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cos you have to.” Dean wipes his face with a towel and grabs the cane. “Look, I’ll keep practicing, but I don’t think we’re getting anywhere.”

He hears Sam sigh, but he lets Dean walk away.

* * *

 

“Sam says you’re getting frustrated with training?” Cas’ back is solid against Dean’s chest, shoulders shifting as he brushes his teeth.

“Can you blame me?” Dean curls his arms tight around Cas’ waist, resting his cheek against one bare shoulder.

“No, not at all. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, not really. I just… maybe I need a break? But a break might ruin whatever progress I have made.”

“I see. Well, maybe we could do something different tomorrow? Mix things up a little bit? I could work with you instead of Sam, if you like.”

“Maybe,” Dean replies. “Some variation would be nice.”

“It’s a plan, then. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”


	8. Chapter Seven

Adding more variation to the routine helps Dean keep from getting as frustrated as before. He knows things can never go back to the way they were, so he tries really hard to not think about all the stuff he can’t do and focus on what he can do.

Like cook and bake, apparently.

It was Cas’ idea and it was Cas who helped Dean organize and label the kitchen in such a way as to make it easy for him to identify all his tools. Sam is skeptical at best and nervous at worst. He doesn’t like the idea of Dean working around hot things, particularly the oven and stove top, which is a valid concern.

Dean comes up with a system, though. When getting stuff in and out of the oven, he wears heavy duty gloves that cover high enough to protect his forearms, turns the oven off before removing food from it, and makes sure to pull the rack out part way. When working on the stove top, he puts pots and pans on the burner before turning it on. Cas helps him upgrade all their pots and pans to make sure everything has a heat-resistant handle so he doesn’t have to worry about burning himself on one of them.

He has to remember to put things back exactly where they belong, but the system works. In fact, it works really well. Within weeks, Dean is making a variety of meals he was able to make before losing his sight and even some he’d never tried before. Every meal he successfully serves for Sam helps to break down- just a little bit at a time- the younger Winchester’s belief that Dean should not, in fact, be cooking on his own. Dean knows Sam will always worry. It’s kinda what he does. It’s a core part of his personality, of being a Winchester, to worry, and he definitely has reason to worry, there’s no denying that.

Dean is rarely alone in the kitchen, though. Cas likes to sit at the table and watch Dean work- both because he’s Cas and he likes to watch Dean, and because he’s keeping an eye on Dean. He pretends to be reading or watching a show on the laptop Sam helped him pick out or something like that, but Dean knows. He may be blind, but he’s not stupid. He can feel intense blue eyes watching as he works. He doesn’t mind. Sometimes being in the kitchen makes  _ him _ nervous, so he can’t imagine how Sam and Cas feel about it. It sounds like a recipe for disaster, to be quite honest, but they haven’t had any incidents yet.

“I’m glad we figured out something you can do on your own,” Cas says one day.

Dean is standing at the stove, slowly stirring a sauce. He’s getting really good at telling how thick a sauce is by how it feels to stir it, which is a pretty neat trick in his opinion. “Yeah?” he says, head tilted down towards the pot in front of him even though he can’t see it.

“It’s been good for you,” Cas explains. “You’re much happier now.”

He thinks about that. “I guess I am,” Dean admits. “It’s something I can do for you guys. I like that feeling.”

“I know you do. It’s who you are. You like to be helpful and take care of people, which is why I’m really impressed with how you’ve been handling this change. I know it can’t be easy to have to accept and ask for help from others, especially with stuff you’ve been able to do on your own for so long.”

Dean chuckles. “Little deep there, Cas.”

“You love it.”

“You know I do.”

He can hear Cas’ smile. “Yeah. I know.”

“Good. Now that we’ve got that cleared up, come taste this sauce and tell me what you think.”

“Yes, Dean.”

* * *

 

Dean goes weeks without an incident, but that only means the first one is particularly terrifying.

“Shit, dammit,” he gasps, dropping his knife and stumbling back from the counter.

Cas is on his feet in an instant, grabbing Dean’s wrist and leading him to the sink to wash away the blood quickly welling up on his finger tip. He was afraid something like this might happen. The cut isn’t too bad, though stitches would not be a bad idea, but it could have been much much worse. Cas is really glad it wasn’t.

“Everything okay?” Sam asks, appearing in the doorway.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says through gritted teeth.

“Sam, can you grab the first aid kit?” Cas says, ignoring his boyfriend’s grumbling.

Sam’s eyes go wide. “Shit, yeah.”

He returns quickly the with the white box, settling in on Dean’s other side.

“Guys, I’m not helpless,” Dean snaps.

“Yeah, but you can’t stitch that up yourself,” Cas points out.

“Whoa, stitches?” Dean’s eyes widen. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“I think it needs at least two,” Cas says decisively, leaving no room for argument.

“I’ll do it,” Sam offers. “I’ve got more experience.”

Cas nods, giving Sam a “go ahead” gesture. The younger brother moves in and gets to work.

“Can we be quick?” Dean asks, tapping his fingers against the side of the sink. “I’ve got a lasagna in the oven.”

“Cas can get it out,” Sam tells him. “You’re not going anywhere near that oven right now.”

“Dammit, Sam-”

“Dean. We’ll talk about this later. For now, can we just… focus on the task at hand and let Cas finish dinner?”

“Fine. Cas, take the lasagna out and set it on the silver rack by the stove. Then finish slicing that cucumber. Actually, nevermind, toss the cucumber, it’s probably got blood on it. Not sanitary. We have more carrots, right? We’ll just go with all carrots tonight. Those need to be washed, peeled, and sliced. Can you do that?”

Cas chuckles and kisses Dean’s cheek. “Yeah, I’ve got it.”

“Are you sure? Look, Sam, can you hurry? I don’t think Cas knows what he’s doing with those carrots.”

“Nu-uh. You’re not going anywhere sharp if I can help it- not for a while.”

“Fuck you, Sam. I’m an adult. I know what I’m doing in the kitchen.”

“I know you know, but that doesn’t make it safe. Especially not now.”

Cas can hear the bitterness in Dean’s voice and knows things are about to go full blown between the brothers. He’s actually surprised it didn’t happen sooner- Sam really doesn’t like Dean working the kitchen alone, even though Dean’s better blind than Sam or Cas could ever be with all their senses.

“Right. Like your job is any safer?”

“Dean, that’s not the point-”

“No, that is the point, Sam. I know I can’t hunt anymore and I know I can’t ask you to stop. How would you feel if I did? Huh?”

“I’m a grown man with years of experience under my belt. This is different.”

“Is it really? I’m not going to get myself killed by accident in the kitchen, Sam. This is the first time I’ve gotten hurt since I started cooking again. How many times have you come home bleeding and I couldn’t do anything about it?”

“Dean-”

“I’m your big brother. I’m supposed to be out there, watching your back and patching you up, and now I can’t be anymore. Hunting was my life, Sam. You know that. Now it’s not an option, so I’ve gotta be useful where I can be. This is something I can do and I will  _ not _ let you take it from me.”

A tense silence fills the room, only to be broken moments later by the timer on the over. Cas quickly turns it off. He slips on Dean’s long oven mitts and gets the lasagna out, setting the hot dish on the rack like Dean told him to.

“I’m sorry,” Sam says quietly. Cas glances over to see him putting away the first aid supplies, Dean’s finger now neatly bandaged. “I guess I’m just so worked up about all this that I forgot how hard it must be for you.”

“I’m not a child, Sam.”

“I know you’re not.”

“I need to feel useful.”

Sam stares down at his hands as he washes them in the sink. “I know that, too.”

“Then stop babying me and let me do what I can do.”

Sam nods. “Okay. But please be more careful?”

Dean scoffs. “Careful is my middle name.”

Cas’ brow furrows. “It is?”

The comments gets both brothers laughing and clears away the lingering tension in the room. Cas smiles and gets to work on the carrots.

* * *

 

“Sam means well.”

“I know.”

“He just worries.”

“I know.”

“I worry, too.”

Dean sighs, bracing one hand against the doorframe to their bedroom. “Yeah. I know.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


	9. Chapter Eight

The best thing that doesn’t change- thank fucking Chuck- is music.

He puts it on all the time now- wanders around the bunker with his cane in one hand and his player in the other, headphones blocking out distractions. The lack of said distractions seems to help him learn the layout bunker faster. He’s run into Sam or Cas a couple times because he couldn’t hear them coming, but it’s a small price to pay.

A lot of his money goes towards music now. His laptop is full of files- new songs he heard on the radio, old classics he forgot he loved, even older classics from long, long before he was born. Songs he likes to think he parents might have danced to, which is a nice thought that always makes him smile.

He takes the opportunity to make Cas listen to more music, too. His lover is less picky about music and is up to trying anything Dean suggests for him. Dean makes playlists of songs for Cas to listen to- with Sam’s help. They don’t have the funds for one of those fancy laptops made for blind people. Dean’s not even sure he could use one, since he doesn’t know braille yet. Granted, he’s not actually sure  _ how _ the laptops work, but he figures braille probably has something to do with most of them. Maybe further down the road.

For now, he relies on Sam’s assistance to find, download, and organize his music. The one rule is that Sam isn’t allowed to judge Dean’s choices. If Dean wants to listen to Taylor Swift, then he’s going to listen to Taylor Swift and no one can stop him, not even obnoxious, giant little brothers.

Sam thankfully refrains from teasing even when Dean plays his music a little louder than is strictly necessary while dancing around the kitchen. Dean discovered Michael Buble’s non-Christmas music and he cannot deny that some of it has been added to his cooking playlist. He likes music that makes him want to move.

Right now he’s enjoying “Sway” as he makes waffles. One of the perks of being blind is he can’t see his own body moving to the music. That forces him to care less about how he  _ looks _ as he dances and focus on how he  _ feels _ . He cares less about what other think, too.

“I like watching you dance,” Cas says from his seat at the kitchen table.

“Yeah?” Dean responds, letting his hips swing as he takes the last waffle from the machine.

“Yeah.” Cas’ voice is a little breathless and Dean can’t help a smirk. He knows how much Cas likes his ass.

Dean unplugs the waffle maker and turns to face Cas. “Well, come dance with me.”

“I don’t know how.” There’s a little bit of disappointment in the other man’s voice.

Dean shakes his head. He moves to the table and feels for Cas’ hand. When he finds it, he pulls Cas to his feet.

“It’s not about knowing,” Dean explains. “It’s about doing.”

The song changes and Dean hears the familiar opening chords of “Save the Last Dance for Me.” as he presses his body against Cas’.

“Just feel it,”  Dean rumbles, low and soft, just for Cas , allowing the music to move him. “Feel the music and let your body go.”

_ You can dance every dance with the guy who gives you the eye _

_ Let him hold you tight _

“What if I look ridiculous?” Cas’ voice is almost a snort, but there’s a tone of embarrassment that Dean can feel in the way he ducks his head and hooks his arm tighter around Dean’s waist- as if he can hide the emotion there where Dean can’t see.

_ You can smile every smile for the man _

_ Who held your hand beneath the pale moonlight _

In his blindness, Dean can see more, now, than he ever could. “Not important. What’s important is how you’re feeling.”

_ But don’t forget who’s taking you home _

_ And in whose arms you’re gonna be _

“I feel good,” Cas tells him.

“Good.” Dean lets their foreheads rest together, noses brushing. It’s the most intimate they’ve been outside of sleeping in months.

_ Darling, save the last dance for me. _

* * *

 

Turns out Cas likes dancing- specifically dancing with Dean. But he loves to watch Dean dancing more. The way the blind man moves is mesmerizing- always has been, but now Dean’s just...free. Dean is in his own world when he dances, so when he pulls Cas in and they move together, Cas feels like the luckiest man alive. Only he is invited into Dean’s little world. No one else gets that.

Cas is still not a very good dancer, not that he has much to compare to, but he’s getting to the point where he doesn’t care. Dean doesn’t care, so why should Cas?

“Dean seems happier,” Sam observes one night. Dean is mixing meat and spices for meatballs. If he can hear Sam over Bon Jovi’s “It’s My Life”, he doesn’t acknowledge him.

Cas is sitting in his usual place at the kitchen table. This is their nightly ritual- Dean makes dinner and Cas does some reading while keeping an eye on his boyfriend.

“He is happier,” Cas tells Sam as the younger brother sits across from him. “He’s so much happier than I’ve seen him in a very long time.”

Sam nods. “Thank you for looking out for him.”

“That’s my job.”

* * *

 

“Hey, Dean, I’m heading to the store. Wanna come?”

“Dean startles a little at Sam’s voice, pulling off his headphones. “Wait, go where?”

“The store. Cas and I are going. You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to, but today’s a big run and we could use the extra hands. Cas suggested I ask you.”

Dean hasn’t interacted with society since he came home from the hospital. Part of him misses it, but a bigger part of him is terrified. He knew this day would come, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

“O-okay,” he says softly.

“Great! We’re gonna head out in twenty. You can pick the music. Deal?”

Dean chuckles around the sudden lump in this throat. “Deal.”

* * *

 

The drive isn’t a long one, but Dean feels the knot in his stomach tighten with every turn of the Impala’s wheels. By the time Sam puts the car in park, Dean’s pretty sure he’s gonna puke if he has to get out of the car.

“You okay, Dean?” Cas reaches over the back of the seat to take Dean’s hand.

Dean shakes his head. “I can’t… I can’t do it.”

Cas presses a gentle kiss to the side of his head. “You can stay here if you like. We’ll be okay without you.”

Dean nods, trying and failing to hide how frantic he is. Cas gives his hand a squeeze.

“Alright. Stay here. Use the screen-reading function Sam set up on your phone to call if you need me.”

Dean nods again. He hears Sam and Cas get out of the car, and makes sure to lock the doors behind them. He adjusts his sunglasses and sinks down in the seat, getting comfortable for the long haul.

He’s not sure how long Sam and Cas are gone, but the tap on the window scares the shit out of him. He flails wildly, hand going to his hip and the gun that isn’t there.

“Sorry,” Cas says, opening the door. “I didn’t intend to startle you. I was just wondering if you’re feeling up to helping put the groceries in the trunk?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean nods and swallows hards, trying to get a hold of his rapidly beating heart. “Sure.”

The asphalt of the parking lot is slightly uneven under his boots, but he keeps a hand on the car and is able to make it to the trunk where Sam is waiting without any incidents. They quickly load up the groceries and Dean returns to his seat far quicker than he left it.

“Feeling okay?” Sam asks, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“‘M fine,” Dean mumbles, rubbing his palms against his thighs before feeling for the play button on the radio. The sound of Robert Plant’s voice is familiar and soothing, helping him steady himself. “I’m fine.”


	10. Chapter Nine

Dean is not “fine” and Cas knows it. He knows that being in public- being around people who aren’t Sam and Cas- would be really good for the older Winchester, but he also knows that the idea is terrifying to Dean, and Cas doesn’t want to push him into something he’s not ready for because that never ends well. It has to be Dean’s choice. The problem is if it’s left up to Dean, he’ll never face it. This is one thing Cas knows Dean would rather avoid as long as he possibly can, which could be a very  _ very _ long time.

“We need to do something to get Dean out of the house,” he tells Sam, sitting across from him in the library. Dean is doing some solo work in the gym, giving them some time to talk.

“I agree,” Sam says, nodding. “He’s not going to go willingly, though.”

Cas sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “Maybe we can get him to go to Jody’s?”

“She still doesn’t know what happened.”

That’s right. Dean still hasn’t called her or Donna or any of the other hunters they speak with on a semi-regular basis. He hasn’t spoken to anyone who isn’t Sam or Cas in almost three months.

“She’s really worried and none of my excuses seem to be working anymore,” Sam continues. “I think the only reason she hasn’t come out here herself is because she doesn’t know where the bunker is.”

“If we tell her where the bunker is and she comes to visit, Dean will have to talk to her,” Cas points out.

“Yeah, but would he feel betrayed by us if we did that?”

He would. Cas isn’t sure Dean would like the idea, though they should probably present it to him before taking any sort of action.

“Did what?”

Both men startle and Cas twists in his seat to see Dean standing in the entryway to the hall, looking sweaty and worn out and absolutely delicious in every way.

Cas shoots Sam a glance, but the younger Winchester doesn’t seem up to being very helpful. Cas makes a face at him and turns back to Dean.

“We were… we’re worried about you, Dean,” he explains. “You haven’t interacted with anyone who isn’t me or Sam in several months. I thought maybe we could invite Jody over. She’s growing suspicious of your absence and Sam can only make up so many excuses.”

Dean’s face falls and he slumps against the wall. “Yeah. I know. I just… I don’t know. I don’t want anyone else to have to see me like this.”

Cas quickly gets to his feet and moves to take Dean’s hand. “That’s why I think Jody would be a good idea. She would never think less of you, you have to know that. Jody loves you as much as we do and she’s concerned for your wellbeing. If you tell her what’s going on, she will understand. If you tell her to leave you alone, she will. But I think interaction with other people would be good for you. Will you at least think about it?”

Dean nods, holding tight to Cas’ hand. “Okay.”

He pulls away abruptly and heads in the direction of the showers. Cas deflates a little.

“That went well,” Sam says dejectedly.

“I’ll talk to him more about it later,” Cas decides. “He might open up more if it’s just me. No offense,” he quickly adds

Sam shakes his head. “None taken. He really has been communicating more with you lately, which I think is really good for him. It’s good that he has someone to talk to who isn’t me. I hope you can get him to at least consider the idea.”

“I’ll do my best.”

* * *

 

Cas doesn’t bring it up again until he and Dean are getting ready for bed that night. Dean seems to be in a better mood, which is good for Cas.

“Have you thought about what Sam and I brought up earlier?”

Dean nods, pulling on his t-shirt. “Yeah, I have, and I agree with you guys. I need to get out of the bunker, beyond Baby’s shotgun seat. Plus... I miss Jody and Donna and the girls.” He rubs the back of his neck, ducking his head, and Cas just wants to kiss him. He refrains, though. “Jody’s probably really worried and I don’t want her to worry, but I also don’t want her to go full-freakin’-mom on me, and I just know she’ll try to.”

“Is that such a bad thing? It’s one of the ways she shows how much she loves you.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighs. “I know. It’s my pride.”

Cas smiles fondly and leans over to bump Dean’s shoulder with his own. “I know. Let me know how you’re feeling in the morning. If you’re up to it, we’ll give Jody a call. Would you rather tell her in person or over the phone?”

“In person,” Dean says without any hesitation. “This isn’t a bomb I would like to get over the phone. I can’t imagine she would either.”

“You’re so considerate,” Cas observes, leading Dean to the bed.

“Yeah, well, I try.” A small, playful, cocky grin pulls Dean’s lips up and it’s just a glimpse at how he used to be. It’s just a smile, but it has Cas’ heart welling in his chest. 

* * *

 

In the morning, Dean finally works up the nerve to call Jody. She scolds him for being out of touch so long, like he knew she would. He doesn’t mind. It’s nice to know someone outside of his brother and boyfriend cares so much.

“You’ve been out of touch for so long, Dean. Tell me why,” she demands. 

Dean shakes his head, forgetting for a moment that she can’t see him. “I want to tell you in person. If I give you the coordinates, can you come to the Bunker?”

There’s worry in her bones at the fact that Dean wants to tell her in person, but she doesn’t let him hear it. “Of course.”4

She writes down the coordinates Dean gives her and promises to be there as soon as possible. When the line clicks and the call ends, Dean slumps back in the library chair.

“You okay?” Sam asks.

“Better,” Dean says honestly.

“Everything will work out fine,” his brother assures him.

“I know, it’s just… my stomach feels likes it’s tied up in knots.”

“This is a big deal. It makes sense for you to be nervous. Come on, let’s make some lunch while we wait.”

“I don’t know if I can eat,” Dean says, but he gets up anyways and follows Sam to the kitchen. He has his cane, but he still likes to hang onto the back of Sam’s shirt and trust the younger man to lead the way.

“You? Not eat? That’s crazy talk.”

Dean rolls his ornamental eyes, but his smile is fond and he doesn’t let go of Sam’s shirt.

“Be nice to your brother, Sam.”

Cas appears at Dean’s side- he really needs to get Cas a bell- and gently latches onto Dean’s shirt.

“Hiya, Cas,” Dean says, tilting his head toward his lover.

“Hello, Dean. Lunchtime?”

“Yup, while we wait for Jody to get here.”

“Oh, she’s on her way? That’s great. I’m excited to meet her finally.”

Dean ducks his head. “Oh yeah. I forgot you guys haven’t met.”

“It’s alright, Dean. You’ve had more important things on your mind.”

Dean nods, but he still feels kinda terrible for not introducing his boyfriend to his friend, especially since Claire is staying with Jody.

“Sandwiches?” Sam suggests, stopping by the kitchen table.

“Nothing with bananas on it,” Dean says, making a face. “Not everyone like bananas in their peanut butter.”

Cas laughs, moving in closer to loop his arm around Dean’s waist from behind. “How does plain peanut butter and jelly sound?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Good. Sit. I’ll make one for both of us.” Cas presses a kiss to the side of Dean’s neck and moves away.

Dean sits at the table and listens to his lover and brother move around the room. They work quickly and Cas is soon sitting by Dean, setting a plate in front of him.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean says, happily accepting the sandwich.

“Have you thought of what you’re going to tell Jody?” Cas asks, already munching on his own sandwich. Dean hears the scrape of a chair as Sam sits down across from them.

“A little. I was just gonna, I dunno, kinda wing it?”

“Allow things to come out naturally?” Sam inquires.

Dean shrugs. “Yeah, I guess that works.”

* * *

 

Jody arrives far too soon for Dean’s liking. He’s sitting in the library when she knocks on the Bunker door.

“I’ve got it,” Sam says, already scaling the steps. Probably taking them two at a time. Damn long legs.

Cas reaches across the table to grab Dean’s hand when they hear Sam greeting the sheriff. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to breath deeply, focusing on Cas’ hand in his own.

“You’ve got this,” Cas murmurs.

“Dean!”

He startles a little at the sound of Jody’s voice so close to him, but does his best to hide it as he gets to his feet.

“Hi, Jody,” he says, a little surprised by how steady his own voice is.

She whacks the back of his head before yanking him into a tight hug. He returns it, chuckling to himself, and realizes how much he’s missed her.

“Damn you,” she says, stepping back to hold him out at arm’s length. “You don’t  _ look _ hurt, so why…?”

He can picture her questioning look in his mind’s eye. “It’s… it’s a long story, but the important thing I needed to tell you in person is…” there’s a lump in his throat as he sets his hands on her shoulders. “Jody, I’m blind.”


	11. Chapter Ten

There’s a moment of silence that follows his statement. It lasts too long and his ears prick up, searching for a sound between the three other people in the room. 

“Oh, Dean.” Jody’s hands come up to cradle his face and he can feel her moving slightly into his space. “I can see it now. Come on, kiddo. Let’s sit and you can tell me what happened.”

Dean’s glad to sink into the library chair, still hanging onto Jody. He hears Cas get up and round the table, so it doesn’t startle him when big hands land on his shoulders and a voice says, “We’ll leave you two to talk. Let me know if you need anything.” Dean nods, and Sam and Cas leave the room.

“Want to talk to me?” Jody asks, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones.

“What… what do you want to know?” Dean asks.

“When did it happen?”

“About… four? Months ago?” he shakes his head. “I haven’t been keeping track of time well. Cas or Sam could tell you for sure.”

“Was it a hunt?”

He nods, gently taking her wrists and bring her hands down to hold them on top of the table. “A wendigo. It got the jump on me and I hit my head pretty hard. The doctor said something about… permanent swelling? I don’t know, I was pretty out of it at the time.”

“Was it instant?” the question is probing, but her tone is gentle and he knows that she’s not judging. If he doesn’t want to answer, she won’t mind.

“No, it… it took a couple days. I think that was… harder? Than if it had been instant?   
He shakes his head, struggling for the words.

“You had to spend those days knowing it was all going away,” Jody says, somehow knowing exactly how he’s feeling.

“Yeah.” The sound is barely a word, choked out as he fights a sudden wave of emotion. “Yeah.”

Jody’s brows knit together at the way his face is flushing pink, and she squeezes his hands a little.“Dean, it’s okay to feel things,” she cooes. “Don’t fight it. You’ve been fighting it for months, haven’t you?”

He nods and lets her pull him in, sliding off the chair to kneel between her legs and curls his arms around her waist. The floor is hard under his knees, but her body is soft and warm, her arms cradling him in a way he hasn’t been held since he was very, very small. That’s all it takes for the floodgates to open. He sobs openly, wetting the fabric of her button down. One of the buttons is digging into his cheekbone, but he can’t bring himself to care. He needed this, if he’s honest with himself. He’s been pushing everything down for a long time. There’s been a few blowups over the months, but they were cracks in the wall. This is the whole wall coming down.

It takes a long time for the tears to stop. Jody pets his hair and whispers soothing words, letting him work through everything.

“Better?” she asks when he finally pulls away.

“Yeah,” he whispers, sitting back and wiping his eyes. He feels behind him for the chair and managed to get up into it without incident. “Thanks.”

Her hand is still on his hair, steadying him. “You should have called me sooner.”

He chuckles and rubs at his nose. “Yeah. I should have.”

* * *

 

Jody stays for a few days, settling into one of their many spare rooms. Dean suggests she make it her room permanently, so when she’s in the area she can have somewhere to stay. After all, now that she knows where the bunker is, there’s no point in her not dropping in whenever she has the chance and it’s not like they have a shortage of rooms. So she sets up across the hall from Sam.

It’s clear she likes the bunker a lot, but Dean knows that’s not the only reason she’s staying. Not when she spends so much time with him. He doesn’t mind, though. It’s nice to have another piece of support system around. Why he waited so long to tell anyone else, he’s not sure. Now he feels a little more confident about telling the rest of their friends, and now that Jody knows, keeping it secret will be much harder. Not that he doesn’t trust Jody to keep a secret, it would just be so much easier if everyone knew.

Maybe they would stop calling him.

“It’s Donna again,” Cas says when Dean’s phone starts ringing. “Do you want to answer?”

Dean sighs. He has his head resting on his lover’s chest and his arms around Cas’ waist, just soaking in the warm. The seasons are changing and it’s chilly in their shared bedroom, but Cas is like a personal heater sharing Dean’s bed.

“I’ll answer it,” he finally says.

He hears Cas fumble a little with the phone, and then it’s pressed to Dean’s ear, leaving his hands free to hold tight to Cas.

“This is Dean,” he says, knowing Cas answered it already.

“Dean! I called Jody about a hunt and she says she with you guys in your bunker. Think I could crash your party?”

He can’t help a smile at the sound of the familiar voice and that ridiculous accent. “You’re always welcome, Donna. We’re near Lebanon, Kansas. I’ll text you the coordinates, ‘kay?”

“Fantastic. I can be there by tomorrow afternoon, Dean-O.”

“Don’t rush,” he tells her. “There’s no hurry. I would rather you get here in one piece than rush and fall asleep at the wheel or somethin’.”

“Aww, so thoughtful. I’ll let you know when I’m about an hour out. Sound good?”

He nuzzles against Cas’ collarbone. “Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

Cas ends the call for him- he really needs to get a phone that’s not a touch screen, but that would probably mean leaving the bunker- and sends Donna the coordinates.

“How are you feeling about this?” Cas asks, reaching over to set the phone on Dean’s nightstand.

“Not sure yet. Telling Jody is one thing, telling Donna…” he shakes his head. “But putting it off won’t help things at all.”

“No, it won’t,” Cas agrees. “Let’s get some sleep and worry about it in the morning.”

Dean sighs and settles deeper into Cas’ embrace. “Okay. Sounds good to me.”

* * *

 

To be honest, Dean doesn’t feel much better in the morning, but he doesn’t tell anyone until Jody nudges him during breakfast and tells him to relax.

“Donna won’t judge,” she murmurs to him. “She loves you boys a lot. Nothing will change that, understand.”

Dean nods, rubbing his palms against his thighs until Cas notices and catches one in his own. The steady, familiar contact help him to calm down his breathing a little bit.

There’s no word from Donna until just before Dean begins dinner. He’s making Swiss Chicken and mashed potatoes with Jody’s assistance, mostly because she wants to combine their recipes and see how he works at the same time. She’s slightly fascinated with how Dean gets around and does stuff, particularly in the kitchen, but Dean doesn't mind. He thinks it’s cute. He’s just glad they picked a meal that takes a little longer to prepare. If everything proceeds on schedule, it should be done fifteen to twenty minutes after Donna arrives so she can join them for dinner. Assuming she doesn’t leave after Dean talks to her.

* * *

 

Cas hears Donna before he sees her. Dean asked to speak with her alone, and then he would introduce her to Cas when he was done, so Cas still knows next to nothing about this woman. She’s yet another one of the hunters the boys are closer with that he hasn’t met, but if things go as well with her as with Jody, then Cas looks forward to getting to know her.

Donna has a bright, friendly voice. Cas can hear her, but can’t make out words. She doesn’t seem upset, though, and when Dean enters the kitchen, cane in one hand and a beautiful, smiling blonde woman on his other arm, Cas relaxes.

“Cas, this is Donna,” Dean says. “Donna, this is my boyfriend, Cas.”

“Hiya!” Donna is so lovely and happy. She yanks Cas into a tight hug. “So nice to meet ya. Dean’s told me lots.” She pats his cheek. “You’re just as handsome as I imagined.”

Cas blushes, ducking his head, but he’s smiling. He likes Donna already. Things are going well.

She steps away, looking around. “Where’s Jody?”

“Probably in her room,” Cas says. “I can show you, if you like?”

“That would be lovely,” Donna squeals happily, looping her arm through his. “We’ll be back for dinner, Dean!”

“Will my boyfriend be in one piece?” Dean chuckles.

“Probably not!”

Cas laughs, letting himself be dragged from the kitchen. He takes Donna to Jody’s room. When the door opens, the last thing he’s expecting is for the blonde woman to be dragged into a kiss.

“Hiya, love,” Donna says cheerfully, looping her arms around the other woman’s waist. “Missed me?”

“You know I did,” Jody replies. Her dark eyes shift to look over Donna’s shoulder and she flushes, realizing they aren’t as alone as she thought they were. “Oh. Hi, Cas.”

“Hello, Jody,” Cas says, shifting his weight and ducking his head awkwardly.

Jody steps away from Donna. “Cas, can we… can we keep this between us? Just for a little while longer, while we figure out how to tell the boys?”

He nods solemnly. “Don’t worry, your secret's safe with me until you decide to tell the Winchesters.”

She relaxes immediately, leaning in as Donna loops her arm around Jody’s waist. “Thank you, Cas,” Jody sighs. “I really appreciate it. We both do.”

Donna nods in agreement.

Cas smiles. “Of course. It’s your personal business. Dinner is almost ready, if you would like to return with me to the kitchen.”

Jody lights up. “Great! Come on, Donna. Dean and I did some experimenting with Swiss Chicken. Hopefully it turns out.”

“Wait, Dean cooks?” Donna’s eyes are wide, but she not upset. She actually looks more impressed than anything. “How does that work?”

“He has a very strict system,” Cas tells her, following them through the halls toward the kitchen. “Everything has to go back to a specific place, for example, and all his measuring equipment is marked with rubber bands Sometimes he still needs a little help- the system is complicated- but he's very self-sufficient in the kitchen. If you stay for a few days, you can watch him work.”

“That's amazing,” Donna says, voice full of awe. “Maybe he can teach me some tricks.”

“He’s got plenty up his sleeves,” Jody says with a soft laugh as the trio enters the kitchen. “I’m sure he wouldn't mind parting with a few.”

“Parting with a few of what?” Dean asks. He’s putting the finishing touches on the mashed potatoes while Sam sets the table.

“Some of you cooking secrets,” Donna explains. “That smells amazing.”

“Thanks, Donna. I'd be happy to cook with you, if you want.”

“That would be lovely. Want me to get this Swiss chicken out when it's done? There's only a few minutes on the timer.”

“Oven mitts are in the bottom drawer by the oven. There's a silver rack to left that you can set it on.”

“Gotcha.”

* * *

 

Dinner turns out exactly as Dean hoped it would- delicious. The chicken is soft enough to cut without a knife, the sauce is thick and creamy with the right amount of garlic, and the potatoes are that just right blend of smooth and a little chunky. He’s proud of himself and Jody. This meal can be considered a success.

Donna has questions, but they’re more about how he does stuff like peeling potatoes- he doesn’t, Sam or Cas do that because he hasn’t quite figured out how to do so without peeling his hands in the process- or make sure he doesn’t overfill his glass. She makes the cutest sound of amazement when he shows her how he puts a fingertip over the rim of the glass to feel when the water is getting close to the top. It’s not a foolproof method- if he’s not paying attention, he  _ will _ make a mess- but he was pretty excited when Sam brought him the suggestion. Anything to help himself to be more self-sufficient.

“So, you’re probably not hunting anymore, huh?” Donna gently probes. He and the ladies are sitting in the library while Sam and Cas do the dishes.

Dean shakes his head. “No more hunting for me. Maybe with time I’ll be able to help with research, but for now I’m out of the game until future notice.” He tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he’s pretty sure he didn’t succeed. “I’m staying active and all, but… yeah.”

“It’s okay to be frustrated,” Jody says. “I can’t imagine what you’re dealing with. Your whole way of living got turned upside down. That’s a pretty big change. No one can blame you for having some trouble adjusting.”

“Cooking helps,” Dean admits. “Gives me something to do- some way to help. I’ve always enjoyed cooking, except I’ve never really had the time until now.”

“If you ever want new recipes to try, give me a call,” Donna says. “I’m always trying new things, so I’ve got piles of the things in my cupboards.”

“I don’t have as many as Donna,” Jody says with a laugh, “but I have a good collection. Always happy to share.”

Dean chuckles. “We’ll start a recipe book club.”

“Yes!” The idea has Donna excited and Dean kinda wishes he hadn’t mentioned it. “We can choose a recipe, share it, and then try whichever we like. What do you guys think?”

Dean’s still hesitant, but more reasons to have his friends around aren’t something he should turn down and this would be a good way to try new foods. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

“I’m in,” Jody agrees. “We can figure things out tomorrow, though. I’m pretty tired tonight.”

“I’m tired, too,” Donna chimes in. “Had a long day.”

“We can set you up in a room,” Dean suggests. “There’s plenty of spares.”

There’s a moment of silence from the women before Jody finally says, “Actually, we’ll be sharing a room, if that’s alright.”

“Share a room? Why-?” Realization hits him like a punch in the face. He does his best to keep his composure. “Oh! How long have you two been together?”

It’s like both women let out a collective sigh of relief. “Since a few months after that first hunt,” Donna tells him. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? Not like I have room to judge. Does Sam know?”

“No,” Jody answers. “But Cas does. I accidentally, uhh, kissed Donna in front of him earlier. He didn’t seem too surprised.”

Dean chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “Well, knowing Cas, he probably already somehow knew. Lingering angel smarts or something.”

The women laugh, which makes Dean feel even better.

“We’ll see you in the morning, then,” Jody says, ruffling Dean’s hair as she gets up.

“Just don’t scar my brother for life!” Dean shouts after them as they leave the room. He can’t see it, but he’s pretty sure at least one of them flips him off, and he grins to himself. It’s worth it.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doyle, Arthur Conan, and Kyle Freeman. The Complete Sherlock Holmes. Vol. 1, Barnes & Noble Classics, 2003. Page 7

The girls hang around the bunker for a few more days before returning home. Dean’s sad for them to leave, but the bunker was feeling more crowded than usual and it’s nice to have more space. Dean feels much better about himself, having been around other people and realizing that even though this seems like a big deal to him, other people aren’t judging him at all. He’s still just Dean to them. That’s good to know. Now he just has to remember it.

“Feeling any better?” Cas asks.

It’s the first night after Jody and Donna left. The two men are cuddled together, roles switched for the time being. It’s Cas turn to rest his head over Dean’s heart, breath warm through the blind man’s thin pajama shirt.

“A little,” Dean replies. “I guess the next step is probably going out in public, isn’t it?”

“If you want it to be. We can just go to a diner, go pick up food, whatever you want. We are going to have to do another grocery run soon, if you’d like to join us on that.”

“I’ll think about it,” Dean decides.

“Alright. Maybe you can go running with Sam in the morning.”

“Running?” His voice shows the disgust mirrored on his face. “Have you ever seen me out of bed that early?”

Cas laughs, that lovely noise Dean adores. “Excellent point. We can go for a walk after dinner, instead.”

“See, that’s more my speed.”

* * *

 

Dean doesn’t feel quite okay in the morning, but he chalks it up to a rough night of sleep even though he hasn’t really had one of those since he started sharing a bed with Cas. He pushes through, though, and goes about his usual tasks. The next day, however, he can’t deny it. He’s definitely sick and it fucking  _ sucks _ .

“No, no, stay here,” Cas scolds when Dean tries to get out of bed. He shoves the blind man down and pulls the blanket up over him. “I’ve got you. You’re going to lay here today and let me handle things. Understood?”

Dean grumbles, but he can’t muster enough energy to argue. In truth, the idea of spending the whole day in bed sounds awesome. So he nods and tugs the blankets tighter around himself. He’s already shivering.

“You have a fever,” Cas observes. “Is there something you can take for that?”

“Tylenol’s better for fever, but if we don’t have any,  ibuprofen works fine.”

Cas nods. “I’ll get you some. Is there some food you would like?”

“Toast?” Dean suggests after a moment of hesitation.

Cas gently kisses his forehead and pushes his hair back. “Alright. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

* * *

 

He’s been human for almost a year, but Cas is still unsure of himself in the kitchen. The toaster in particular always startles him, so he’s not the biggest fan. He burns the first two slices of toast, though, which is when Sam steps in.

“Here, let me,” Sam says, dropping the bread into the toaster and pushing the lever down. “Since the toaster’s already hot, we’ll have to keep a close eye on it, but if we cook the bread for less time, it should turn out okay. Where’s Dean? He usually helps you with this.”

Cas shakes his head, tapping the tip of the butter knife against the plate as he waits. “He’s not feeling well. I think it’s the flu.”

Sam makes a face. “Oh. Guess I’ll steer clear of him, then.”

That pulls a small chuckle from Cas, though he’s so focused on watching the toast that he barely processes what Sam’s saying.

“Do you want me to run to the store and get him some canned soups or something?” Sam offers. “It’s not the same as anything he could make himself, but it’s better than eating toast until he gets better.”

Cas nods. “That would be nice. I’ll text you a list of whatever soups Dean wants.”

“Sounds like a plan. Here, I think the toast is finished.”

* * *

 

Dean looks happy to hear Cas’ return with Tylenol, a glass of water, and some toast.

“Well, it doesn’t smell burned or anything,” he comments, rubbing his nose before taking a bite and humming. “Not bad. Did you make the toast yourself?” He knows how Cas feels about the toaster.

“Sam helped a bit, after I burnt the first pieces.” Cas is blushing, but Dean just smiles. “He’s going to the store, so he can pick up anything you’ll want to eat until you feel better.”

Dean nods, clearing his throat and sending himself into a coughing fit that leaves him with a pink face and neck. “Some, uh- some soups would be great.” His voice is thick and raspy, but he clears it and continues. “Chicken noodle, tomato. Some… some beef ramen would be nice, too. The instant kind.”

Cas lifts an eyebrow. “Ramen? That’s not very nutritious.”

Dean laughs, which sets off another fit of coughing. Cas rubs his back worriedly. “Yeah, there are foods that are better for ya. But the salt feels nice when you have a sore throat, the noodles are soft, and the heat helps with the swelling.”

“Well, that makes sense.” Cas gently pets Dean’s hair, watching him munch on the toast and take small sips of the water, making a face after each one. “Is there something wrong with the water?”

“No,” Dean says with a smile. “Just, with my stuffy nose and being sick and all, it tastes kinda funny.”

“Oh.” Cas nods, soaking up the information. “Is there a medicine that can help with that?”

“With fixing my taste buds? Nah. That’s why blander foods like toast work so well. Something for my nose would be nice. I think there’s Dayquil in the medicine cabinet. Orange box.”

“I’ll go get it.”

* * *

 

After twenty minutes or so, the Tylenol takes effect and Dean’s fever goes down a little. Once he’s not so cold he seems to want to get out of bed, but Cas doesn’t let him. He needs to get as much rest as possible if he wants to have any hope of this going away quickly.

“You’re gonna get yourself sick,” Dean sighs, scrolling through Netflix recommendations on his laptop even though he can’t actually see them- he explained earlier that he’ll scroll and click around to pick something random, that way he can be surprised by what he gets to listen to. Cas is sitting next to him, on top of the blankets and leaned against the headboard.

“I’m taking some vitamins and staying hydrated,” Cas tells him. “I should be fine.”

“And if you get sick?” Dean glances up at Cas with unbelieving green eyes.

Cas smiles fondly and bends over to kiss his hair. Dean’s a little sweaty, thanks to the fever and being in bed all day, but Cas doesn’t mind one bit. “Then it will be your turn to take care of me. I’m hungry. How does chicken noodle soup sound?”

“Amazing.”

* * *

 

Armed with soup for both of them and a new book per Sam’s recommendation (Cas finished his last one just the night before), Cas returns to the bedroom he shares with Dean. As soon as he sits on the bed, Dean shoves his laptop aside and wraps his arms around Cas’ waist.

Cas laughs, holding the bowls up soup steady so he doesn’t accidentally spill it on Dean’s head. “Miss me?” he asks, leaning over to carefully set one bowl on Dean’s nightstand before placing the other on his own. Only then can he remove the book he’s had trapped under his arm.

“A lil bit,” Dean admits. “You brought food?”

“I brought food. Yours is on your nightstand. Careful, though, it’s hot.”

Dean nods, reluctantly letting go of Cas to roll over and very carefully feel for his bowl of soup. When he’s ready he picks it up and shifts around to sit up against the headboard like Cas is. They eat their soup in silence, shoulders pressed together. When the soup is gone, Dean sets the bowl on the nightstand again and sinks down to snuggle against Cas’ stomach once more. When Cas is done with his own soup, he trades the bowl for the book.

Dean hears the hollow sound of it in Cas’ hand, then the flip of pages. “New book?” 

“Yes, it’s one Sam suggested. I’ve been meaning to read it for a while. Apparently, it’s actually a collection of short stories that were published individually.”

“Hmm.” Dean twists to nuzzle against Cas’ belly, breath warm against the exposed strip of skin where Cas’ t-shirt has ridden up a little. “Read to me?”

Cas glances down at him in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m tired of Netflix and I… I like to listen to your voice,” he admits. “Please?”

“Of course!” Cas quickly flips past the introduction on the first labeled chapter. “Here we go. Are you comfortable?”

Dean nods, fingers playing mindlessly with Cas’ t-shirt hem.

“Alright.  _ A Study in Scarlet, Part One, Being a Reprint from the Reminiscences of John H. Watson, M.D., Late of the Army Medical Department.  _

_ Chapter One:  _

_ Mr. Sherlock Holmes. In the Late year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course prescribed for surgeons in the Army. having completed my studies there, I was duly attached to… _ ”

* * *

 

“I told you so.”

Cas sniffs, pulling the blankets up to his chin. After a week of Dean being sick, apparently it’s his turn. “Fine. You told me so.”

Dean chuckles. “My turn to take care of you, huh?”

“Yes, please.”


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doyle, Arthur Conan, and Kyle Freeman. The Complete Sherlock Holmes. Vol. 1, Barnes & Noble Classics, 2003. Page 13

Taking care of Cas is nice, especially after being sick himself, but Dean’s much happier when Cas’ fever finally breaks and his sore throat goes away. Sam manages to avoid getting sick (probably something to do with the running or whatever, but Dean won’t tell him that).

“Now that we’re both feeling better, we should celebrate with a date night,” Cas suggests, leaning back in the library chair. He’s enjoying not being cooped up in their bedroom. Dean can’t blame him.

“I like that idea,” Dean replies. “I can cook something, you can pick a movie.”

“Actually… I was thinking we could go out.”

Dean is a little surprised by that. He knows Cas wants him to go out in public, to, metaphorically, see for himself that it’s really not as scary as he feels like it is. Dean also knows that if he says no, then Cas will agree to the idea of staying in, but Dean hasn’t been out of the house beyond a few drives in the Impala since he lost his sight months ago.

“Maybe… a picnic?” Dean offers warily. That would be more private, just him and Cas, but still in a public park.

“A picnic sounds wonderful!” Dean can hear how happy Cas is with that idea, which is good, because Dean’s not sure he can handle the atmosphere and crowds of an actual restaurant yet.

“I’ll make sandwiches and stuff,” Dean says. He’s never gone on a picnic before. What do people eat on picnics? He’s gonna have to ask Sam to look that up. “We probably have a blanket somewhere we can use. I don’t- we don’t have a basket, I don’t think. But we have that cooler in the back of the car. That would work, right?”

“That would work perfectly,” Cas assures him. “We can have sandwiches, fruit, and chips.”

“And beer?” he’s mostly joking, but a small part of him is serious.

Cas laughs. Dean doesn’t realize it, but he still makes the same faces he’s always made, and Cas stares for a moment at the smirk on Dean’s lip and hopeful arch of his brows. “Beer for you, since you won’t be driving home. I’ll just have water.”

Dean pouts, but he’s not really upset and Cas knows it. “Fine.”

“We go in a few hours, if that’s alright?”

“Yeah. That’s alright.”

* * *

 

Dean’s nervous, he can’t deny it. This is a huge step for him. He’s just got to remember that Cas will be right there with him the whole time and there’s absolutely nothing he needs to be worried about beyond enjoying himself.

“Ready to go?” Cas asks when they’re both settled in the Impala. The cooler is full of a variety of picnic foods, courtesy of Sam’s research. They probably won’t eat most of it, but Dean wanted there to be options.

“Ready,” Dean says, more for himself than for Cas. “Remember to go easy on the brakes.”

“Okay, Dean.”

* * *

 

“We’re here,” Cas says, putting the Impala in park. “Ready to get out?”

The drive to the park was not nearly as long as Dean would have liked it to be. He’s only been on long drives the past months, so the abruptness of this drive startles him more than he’d like to admit. 

_ ‘At least we’re close to home,’ _ Dean thinks to himself. 

He forces himself to breathe deeply and slowly, focusing on Cas’ hand in his own and the rumble of Baby’s engine. Cas is a very good driver, thankfully, so he didn’t have to worry as much about the car.

“Gimme a minute?” Dean mumbles, fingernails digging into his own palm.

“Alright. I’m going to take the blanket and cooler and find us a good place to sit, and then I’ll come back for you. Sound good?”

Dean nods. He hears Cas get the blanket and cooler from the backseat and walk away. He returns a few minutes later, hands empty of the items.

“Our picnic is waiting for you,” he tells Dean, opening the passenger door and pressing the cane into the blind man’s hand. “Come on. Come sit with me.”

Dean allows himself to be pulled upright and out of the car. As soon as his shoes hit asphalt his knees buckle a little, but Cas is there to catch him.

“I’ve got you,” the man murmurs, steadying Dean. “I know it’s frightening, but you can do it, Dean. There’s hardly any people around. There’s a woman running with her dog on the other side of the park. There’s a young couple pushing their daughter on the swings. There’s another couple on the other side of the playground having a picnic of their own. The sun is shining. Do you feel it?”

Dean nods, holding himself up with an arm around Cas’ waist as he’s guided forward. Asphalt changes to grass, soft beneath his boots. 

“There’s a light breeze. The temperature today is perfect for a picnic, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Dean manages. It really is.

“We’re at the blanket. Come on, let’s sit down.”

Once he’s on the blanket, Dean feels much better. He sets his cane down beside him and tilts his face back, feeling the sunshine and the air on his face.

“Better?” Cas asks.

“Much,” Dean tells him.

“Shall we eat?”

“Yeah, let’s eat.”

Cas chuckles at how much food Dean packed, but otherwise he doesn’t remark. It’s nice, not having to hurry to eat. Dean’s been trying to eat slower, to really enjoy his food rather than just get as much in his stomach as fast as possible. It’s not easy to break a habit formed by a lifetime of no knowing where your next meal will be coming from, but he’s working really hard. Afterall, he has a home and a boyfriend now. Things have settled down. He never thought he would like that, but he does. Though, Dean does miss hunting. He misses it a lot. He supposes he’ll be spending the rest of his life now breaking old habits. 

* * *

 

Dean nuzzles gently against Cas’ thigh. He feels a bit like a cat, basking in the sunshine and the warm weight of a hand in his hair. If he could, he would probably be purring.

To say the picnic was a success would be an understatement. The pair put a decent sized dent in the massive amount of food Dean packed and now they’re just letting it settle in while enjoying the beautiful day. Cas reads from Sam’s massive collection of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries, and if possible, the sound of his deep voice is making the picnic feel more like heaven than anything Dean’s ever known.

“ _ ‘Is there any point to which you would wish to draw my attention?’ ‘To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time.’ ‘The dog did nothing in the night-time.’ ‘That was the curious incident,’ remarked- _ ”

Dean rolls onto his back, tilting his head up towards his lover. “Cas?”

He hears the rustle of a bookmark being placed and the satisfying thump of a heavy book closing. “Yes, Dean?”

“I love you.”

When Cas speaks, his smile is audible. “I love you, too, Dean.”

Dean reaches up slowly until he find the other man’s face, cradling a strong jaw in his palm and rubbing his thumb over slightly chapped lips. “Can… can I kiss you?”

Cas inhales sharply. Dean knows how he feels. They haven’t kissed since before he lost his sight- Dean just wasn’t ready to. But he is now. He wants it. He  _ needs _ it.

“Of course,” Cas says softly. “Just like this?”

“No, let me- hang on.” Dean levers himself upright and scoots over until he’s sitting with his right thigh pressed to Cas’ right one. He finds Cas’ face again, gently tugging him in until their noses are brushing. “Like this.”

He’d forgotten how it feels to kiss Cas.

They keeps things light, slow. It’s almost like he’s relearning how to kiss Cas. When he’s more sure, he curls his hand around the back of Cas’ neck and deepens the kiss until they have to come up for air. He doesn’t want to go too far, though, and settles for resting their foreheads together.

“I’ve missed that,” Cas admits.

“Yeah,” Dean sighs, breath mingling with Cas’ between their mouths. “I missed it, too.”

Cas kisses him again and Dean allows himself to be pulled into the other man’s lap, bowed legs falling open around thick thighs. When muscular arms wrap around the small of his back, he wonders why he ever put this off.

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” Cas murmurs, ducking his head to press a kiss to the point of Dean’s collarbone.

“Thank you for waiting.”

“I would wait an eternity for you, Dean.”

Dean nods, running his fingers through Cas’ hair. “I know.”

Cas grins. Dean hasn’t made any Star Wars references in too long, and the way the freckled-faced man’s lips are turning up, neither of them can suppress their laughter. 

Yeah… it’s been too long. 

* * *

 

It’s a miracle that they make it back to the bunker in one piece, let alone that they managed to bring the food and blankets with them. Now that Dean has a taste of Cas again, he can’t seem to keep his hands off of his boyfriend. Cas doesn’t seem to mind- and he is very cute when he’s a little annoyed with Dean’s antics. Cas gets them home safe and down to their shared bedroom. Dean wants- he  _ needs _ \- and then suddenly something changes.

Suddenly he can’t.

His back hits the mattress, Cas blankets him with his body, and something inside Dean seizes up so quick for a moment he’s worried he’s having another heart attack or something. Of course, that hurt more, so he knows that can’t be it.

“Wait,” he gasps, hands changing from pulling at Cas’ shirt to shoving at his shoulders. “ _ Wait _ .”

Cas backs off immediately, rolling off of Dean and pulling them both to sit against the headboard. “Easy, easy,” he says, just holding Dean to his chest. “I’ve got you. We’re not doing anything you don’t want to do, okay?”

Dean manages a shaky breath before the wave of emotions hit him. He yanks away, wiping at his eyes. “Sorry, I just- sorry.”

“Dean,” Cas says gently. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s stupid, I… I’m just so stupid, can’t even do this right-”

“ _ Dean. _ ”

His mouth snaps shut. His body is shaking- why is he shaking?- when Cas pulls him close once more.

“It’s okay,” the other man says. “You’re not stupid. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you, understand? Nothing at all.”

“But I- you-”

“Dean.” There’s a fond exasperation in Cas’ voice. “We could never have sex again and I would be happy. Understand? This isn’t about me and what I want or what you think I need. This is about you and what  _ you _ need. Does that make sense?”

“A… a little bit,” Dean whispers, burying his face in Cas’ shoulder.

“I’ll wait, Dean, for as long as you need.”

Dean nods. “Can we… can we just sit here for a while? Maybe you can read to me?”

“Of course. Let me go get the book from the car.”

Cas quickly returns with the book in hand and settles in beside Dean once more. “Alright, where were we…? Ah! Here.  _ ‘Is there any point to which you would wish to draw my attention?’ ‘To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time.’ ‘The dog did nothing in the night-time.’ ‘That was the curious incident,’ remarked Sherlock Holmes. Four days later Holmes and I were again in the train, bound for Winchester _ -” Dean chuckles a little at the name, just like he has every other time it was mentioned previously. “Dean, focus on the story.”

“I am!”

“Uh-huh. Anyways-  _ Holmes and I were again in the train, bound for Winchester to see the race for the Wessex cup _ …”


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Now that he’s got the park under his belt, the idea of going to a small restaurant like a diner isn’t as terrifying. At least, right up until he’s sitting in the parking lot.

“Man, you’ve got this,” Sam says. “Come on, let’s go get you a burger with enough onions to make Cas regret sharing a room with you and sit down for a while, and if you want to get it to go, we can.”

Dean nods, feeling Cas’ hand land on his shoulder. The other man is standing outside the car, reaching through the open door to support Dean.

“I want a burger,” Dean says firmly, tilting his face up toward his lover. “With bacon.”

“Well,” Cas says, “let’s go get you one.”

He knows Cas is smiling. He wishes he could see it.

* * *

 

The diner isn’t too crowded, which is nice. Sam picks a booth a little ways off from the rest of the customers, giving them some privacy.

“Bacon cheeseburger, extra onions?” Cas asks when he and Dean are settled next to each other in the booth, Cas on the outer edge. Sam sits across from them.

“Sounds good,” Dean says, folding his hands on the table top.

“What would you like to drink?”

“A coke. And don’t forget the fries.”

Cas chuckles. “I won’t forget,” he assures his boyfriend.

The waitress comes over, menus in hand. She sets one in front of each man, introducing herself as Deborah as she goes. She’s a lovely young lady, probably around Claire’s age, with a bright smile and a sweet voice.

“Shall I get you some drinks while you take a look at the menu?” she asks, straightening up and pulling out her little notepad.

Dean picks up the menu, flipping through it with a tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Okay, sure! I suppose I’ll just stare at this menu I can’t see for a few minutes.”

Cas elbows Dean’s side at the same time Sam kicks him under the table. The older Winchester jumps and rubs at his injuries, but he’s laughing. He turns his face toward Deborah and holds out the menu.

“I’m blind,” he tells her, smiling wide to let her know he’s far from upset at her assumption.

“Oh!” she ducks her head, taking back the menu. “I’m so sorry, sir.”

He waves her off. “Aw, it’s not biggie. I’ll have a coke to start, if that’s alright.”

“Of course! Anything for you two?” she glances between Sam and Cas, as if waiting for one of them to reveal that they are also blind.

“Water for me,” Sam says.

“I’ll have water as well,” Cas tells her. “Thank you.”

She nods and scurries away. Cas sighs and nudges Dean again with his elbow.

“Be nice,” he scolds.

“What?” Dean says innocently, eyes wide. “I’m the nicest person here.”

Sam rolls his eyes, exchanging a “he’s lucky we like him” look with Cas.

Deborah returns a minute later, armed with their drinks. “Alright, I have two waters and a coke. Do you know what you would like to eat or do you need a few more minutes to decide?”

“Dean and I are ready,” Cas tells her. “Sam, are you ready?”

“Yeah,” the younger Winchester says. “I would like the grilled chicken cobb salad.”

“Alright,” Deborah says, writing down his order. “With the blue cheese dressing?”

“Yes, please.”

She nods, making the note, and then turns to Cas.

“I would like the bacon cheeseburger and fries,” Cas says. “Dean?”

“Same as him, but with extra onions on that burger, sweetheart,” he says cheerfully, shooting her a wink that makes the poor girl swoon a little. Cas rolls his eyes internally, nudging Dean’s knee with his own under the table. “What kind of pies do you serve here?”

“We- we have cherry and pecan,” she says. “And a special pumpkin pie for the season.”

“Oooh, tough choices.” Dean pouts his lips thoughtfully and Cas wants to kiss him. “Let’s just start with the meals. I’ll decide on the pie later.”

Deborah nods. “O-okay. So, just the salad and burgers for you guys?”

“That will be all, yes,” Cas replies. “Thank you.” He gives her his best smile.

She makes a strange squeaking noise and scurries away. Sam chuckles.

“Quite the ladykiller there, Cas,” he teases.

Cas shoots Sam a puzzled look. “I’m not sure what I did, but she seemed quite alive.”

Dean laughs at that, a rich sound that warms both Cas and Sam inside and out. Dean leans against Cas’ shoulder with a smirk. “Ah, so innocent still.”

Cas pouts. “I don’t know what you two are talking about.”

Sam grins, shaking his head. “She thinks you and Dean are good looking.”

“I still do not understand how that makes me a ‘ladykiller’.”

Dean snickers and leans in to press a kiss to Cas’ cheek. “I’ll explain it later, okay?”

* * *

 

Once she’s dropped off their meals, Deborah leaves them alone for the most part. Cas doesn’t mind- not when Dean’s linked their feet together under the table and made it difficult to focus on the absolutely delicious burger in front of him. It’s not as good as one of Dean’s homemade burgers, that’s for sure, but it’s very good and Cas does his best to savor it. Sam is scrolling through something on his phone, using it as a distraction from Dean as the older Winchester openly displays how much he’s enjoying his meal.

“Whatcha doin’ over there, Sammy?” Dean asks around a mouthful of fries.

“Just readin’ an email from Jody,” Sam replies. “She’s tracking what seems like a skinwalker pack and could use an extra hand.”

“Sounds like fun.” Dean drags a couple fries through his ketchup. “You better get a move on. We can get this to go and head home, so you can get going asap.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, definitely. Cas, wave down Deborah next time she comes by, will ya?”

“Of course, Dean.”

* * *

 

Once they’ve boxed up all their food, paid the bill, and left a decent tip, the three head home. Dean’s proud of himself for not freaking out- or at least not showing how freaked out he was- but he can’t help his sigh of relief when he sinks into the passenger seat of the impala.

“Are you okay?” Cas asks, reaching over the seat to take Dean’s hand.

“Yeah, just… that was stressful.”

“It was? I’m sorry, Dean, we could have left earlier.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam questions, steering the impala out onto the street.

“I didn’t want to give up on it,” Dean admits. “I want to be able to sit in diners and stuff with you guys. If I wuss out every time, I’ll never get any better.

Cas gives Dean’s hand a squeeze. “I’m proud of you. That must have been very difficult. But you do realize you don’t have to wait until after to tell us these things.”

“Yeah, well. That’s easier said than done.”

“You’re making a lot of progress,” Sam says. “It’s really impressive.”

Dean can’t help a smile. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam.”

“Whatever you say, Sammy.”

He hears Sam’s exasperated huff and grins, turning his face into the sunlight coming through the passenger window. Things are finally started to feel kind of normal again and it’s the best.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Saying goodbye to Sam every time he leaves on a hunt is something Dean’s not sure will ever feel normal. Not hunting again will never feel normal for a man who’s been doing it since before he even had the chance to be a little boy. The thought of Sam out there, saving people, hunting things, carrying on the family business, alone, puts a pit in Dean’s stomach.

“Not really the ‘Family Business’ if it’s just you out there, Sammy,” he let slip last month with a bitter smile and heartbreaking guilt in his useless eyes.

Dean hates hearing Sam’s boots go up the stairs, hates the sound of the bunker door slamming shut, hates not being able to protect Sam. He’s doing his best to be supportive of Sam’s decision to keep hunting- it’s all the kid has left, really- but that doesn’t make it any easier for a man who saved the world a few times over to be permanently benched like this.

Every time Sam catches a case, Dean does his best to swallow the panic rising in his chest. The fear threatens to escape his throat when Sam hauls his bag up the staircase with Baby’s keys in his hands. Hell, sometimes it does. The sound of the shower is usually loud enough to mask Dean’s ragged breaths and cries of his brother’s name. It’s like when John went missing all over again...but Sam...he isn’t missing- ‘not yet’ the voice in Dean’s head tells him. 

Every time Sam leaves could be the end of it all- the last time Dean hears his brother’s voice or holds Sam in his arms. Every time he hears the ringtone he has set for Sam, it’s like an elephant has been lifted off his chest- at least until the call ends and the weight is back until Sam comes down the bunker stairs again.

“I hate when he’s gone,” Dean grumbles, burrowing into Cas’ chest. He just got off the phone with Sam, who updated him on the case and how Jody is doing. Now he and Cas are settling into bed, getting ready for some of their nightly reading. It’s one of the highlights of Dean’s day, but he’s not sure anything could lift him out of this funk. Sam’s only been gone two days, but it doesn’t matter how long a hunt takes. It always feels like the longest, most stressful time of Dean’s life. He’s never been more on edge in his life.

“I know,” Cas sighs, arms curling around Dean’s shoulders. “I know. But Sam’s the best hunter we know.”

“Dad was the best hunter we knew, too, Cas,” Dean points out. 

“He can take care of himself, Dean. You and Sam are better hunters than John ever could have been.”

“Being the best doesn’t make him invincible,” Dean murmurs.

Cas presses a kiss to the top of Dean’s head. “No,” he whispers. “It doesn’t.”

“I wish he would just stay here.”

“That wouldn’t be fair to him.”

Dean shakes his head. “I know. He’s not a pet, he’s my brother. I just wish there was some way I could be out there, helping him.”

Cas hums thoughtfully, petting Dean’s hair. “Maybe… what if I were to go with him?”

“You go with him? And what about me? What am I supposed to do, stay home like a good little housewife? Making dinner and keeping the house clean?” There’s a bitterness in Dean’s tone that he can’t seem to help.

“No, of course not,” Cas assures him. “I would never look at you like that. Look, it was just an idea. We can try something else- get Sam a dog, or ask him to only hunt with Jody and Donna. If you explain how you’re feeling, he’ll listen. You know he will. This is Sam we’re talking about.”

Dean sighs deeply. “I know. I’m sorry, Cas, I just… it’s so frustrating, not being able to be out there anymore, even though I’ve had months to get used to it.”

“I would be surprised if the transition was easy. Hunting is a large part of who you are. It always will be. You’ll get used to not hunting eventually, but I don’t believe you’ll ever truly be able to let it go, and I don’t expect you to.”

Dean nods. He presses his nose to Cas’ shirt and breathes slowly, soaking in the homey smell of his boyfriend. Letting it settle into his nose and his bones, helping him to relax into Cas’ embrace.

“There you go,” Cas murmurs, rubbing soothing circles on Dean’s upper back. “Do you want to keep discussing this? Or talk about it more when Sam gets back?”

“When Sam gets back,” Dean answers, words muffled by Cas’ chest. 

‘ _ If _ Sam comes back,’ the voice in his head whispers. Dean’s brows furrow and he pushes the thought out of his brain, focusing on Cas.

“Alright.” Cas twists around before resettling. “I’m going to read now. Do you remember where we left off?”

Dean lifts his head a little, turning to rest his cheek on Cas’ pec. “We’re on ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles.’”

“Here we go:  _ Chapter One, Mr. Sherlock Holmes _ …”

* * *

 

Sam comes back two days later, in one piece except for some scratches that are going to leave a nice scar on his shoulder.

“You’re gonna have to come up with a good story to tell the ladies,” Dean says teasingly, doing his best to hide how relieved he is to have Sam home in one piece. He’s pretty sure he isn’t fooling anyone, though, since he’s practically been attached to Sam’s hip since he got home an hour ago.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” Sam replies, playfully shoving his brother. The three men are sitting around the dinner table, enjoying a simple but delicious meal of pan-seared chicken and oven baked potatoes. “Anything exciting happen while I was gone?”

“Nothing exciting ever happens here,” Dean tells Sam, shoving him back.

“I would like to keep it that way.” Cas’ tone is lightly scolding. “Can we stop pushing one another around before someone gets hurt.”

“Yes, Cas,” Dean sighs dramatically. He can picture his lover’s bemused expression in his mind’s eye.

“Sam, there’s actually something Dean and I would like to speak with you about, if you don’t mind.”

Dean glares at Cas. Of course he would bring it up when they’re all at the dinner table and kind of trapped. Only worse place would probably be in the car.

“Sure. What’s up.”

“Dean, would you like to explain?”

Dean makes a face down at his food, but nods. “Sam, I know I can’t ask you to stop hunting, but I worry a lot when you’re gone, especially when you go on hunts alone, because I can’t be there to look out for you anymore, and I know you’re a grown man and you can take care of yourself, but that’s been my job since we were little. Gotta look out for my pain in the ass little brother. Right?”

“Right.” Sam’s voice is soft.

“Would it… would it be unfair of me to ask you to not go on solo hunts?” Dean asks, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. “Just to hunt with Jody or Donna or Garth or- or Cas?”

“Not at all,” Sam says, reaching across the table to set a firm hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Dean, that’s completely fair and reasonable. Yeah, I’m a really good hunter, but hunting alone is a stupid decision no matter how experience a hunter you are. Plus, if I’m honest with you, it’s weird to hunt alone after so many years of the best hunting partner a guy could ask for.”

Dean chuckles, forcing down the sudden wave of emotion that hits him. “Aw, Sammy! Shoulda told me how you felt years ago!”

He can practically  _ hear _ Sam’s eyes rolling just before the hand on his shoulder turns into a solid punch. “Whatever, jerk.”

“You love it, bitch.”

Sam laughs softly. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Dean swallows down the lump in his throat and nods, turning his attention back to his food. Cas’ knee bumps against his under the table on one side, followed by Sam’s on the other. A silent show of support from the two most important people in his life. It feels good.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

“This feels really weird,” Dean sighs, lying sprawled across the bed while Cas finishes packing his duffel.

“I can stay home if you want,” Cas offers. “It’s not too late to call Jody or Donna.”

Dean shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll be fine, it’s just… weird.”

“You’ve said that.” Sam’s voice comes from the doorway.

“Yeah, well, it’s true.”

Sam chuckles. “Alright. Ready to go, Cas?”

Dean hears the sound of a zipper. “Ready.”

“You’ll call?” Dean asks, rolling over and getting to his feet.

“We’ll call,” Cas assures him.

“When you get-”

“-to the motel, when we figure it out, before we leave, after we get rid of the monster, before we leave to come home, when we’re an hour out, and every night before bed until we come home,” Cas recites. “We will. I promise.”

Dean pouts, but lets Cas pull him in for a slow kiss. “Take care of yourself,” he murmurs, bracing his hands against Cas’ chest and plucking nervously at the buttons of his henley.

“I will,” Cas says, voice just as soft. “And I’ll take care of Sam, too. You just worry about you.”

Dean huffs. “Yeah, easier said than done.”

* * *

Being alone in the bunker is beyond weird.

It’s quiet, for starters. Dean finds himself playing music very loudly to fill the silence and cover up the creaking noises older buildings like this one produce naturally. He never really noticed them before- or if he did, they didn’t bother him. But when you’re blind and alone in a massive underground bunker, and you have some knowledge of what goes bump in the night, well, those creaking noises could be anything.

When the phone rings the first time, the sound scares the crap out of Dean and he almost drops his bowl of cereal. He snatches up the phone and somehow, despite his haste, manages to answer the call.

“Hello?” he says, pressing it to his ear and leaning back against the kitchen counter. With only himself here, he wasn’t feeling up to cooking anything. Maybe tomorrow.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says.

All the tension melts from his body. “Cas.”

“I take it you’ve missed me?”

“Nah,” Dean lies. “It’s nice, having the bunker all to myself. Don’t have to worry about turning the lights on or wearing pants.”

He hears two sets of laughter and realizes Cas must have him on speaker. “Classy, Dean,” Sam says.

“Yeah, well, you know me. I guess it’s safe to say you made it to the motel?”

“Yes and be glad you’re not here. These mattresses are terrible. My back is going to hate me by the end of them.”

“No magic fingers?” Dean asks half-wistfully.

Both men give a resounding, “No!” and Dean chuckles.

“Well, hurry home, otherwise the memory foam might forget you.”

“It would never.”

“It might if it gets upset with you.”

“Ew,” Sam chimes in. “I’m gonna go get dinner and leave you two to be gross.”

“You’re just jealous!” Dean calls after his brother.

“Whatever makes you feel better!” is all he gets before he hears the telltale sound of a door closing.

“Alone at last,” Dean says. “So, Cas, what’re you wearing?” he wiggles his eyebrows for his own sake.

“I’m not sure why you need to know that.”

Dean sputters milk all over the floor, the image of those furrowed brows and narrowed blue eyes all to real, even without his eyes to see them. “Smooth, Cas. It’s called phone sex.”

“How on earth does one have sex over the phone?” the puzzlement in Cas’ voice is beyond adorable.

“You don’t really,” Dean explains, laughing. “You tell each other what you would do if you were together and jerk off to it.”

“Oh, I see. Mutual masturbation, but over the phone.”

Dean facepalms inside his head. “Yes. Except calling that is a little less sexy.”

“The rules of what is considered sexy and what is not are very complicated.”

“I suppose they are. Don’t worry, you’ll learn them all eventually.”

“I certainly hope so. Do you wish to have phone sex, Dean? Because I would not mind, but I’m unsure how long Sam will be gone.”

“I’m good, Cas. It was a joke. Maybe another time, though?” After we’re finally able to have real sex?

“Of course. What are you doing with us gone?”

“Well, right now I’m standing in the kitchen in nothing but my boxers eating cereal.”

“That sounds… fun?”

“Hah, that’s a word for it. I’m mostly just doing things I wouldn’t do when you guys are around.”

“I don’t mind when you’re in just your boxers.”

“I know you don’t, but Sam probably does.”

“Hmm. Good point. You decided not to cook?”

“Nah,” Dean says around a mouthful of aforementioned cereal. “Wasn’t feeling up to it tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”

“There are some leftovers in the fridge, if you don’t feel up to cooking tomorrow either.”

“Ooh, good point. I forgot those were there. Better eat them before they go bad.”

“I would hate to see your delicious cooking go to waste.”

“I’d hate to smell it.”

That gets a laugh out of Cas. Dean grins into the dark room, feeling a little proud of himself.

“I’ll let you get back to your important hunter stuff. Keep me updated, okay?”

“I will,” Cas says solemnly. “How would you feel if Sam and I were to call tomorrow to- what’s the phrase?- pick your brain? Did I use that correctly?”

“You used it just right. I wouldn’t mind at all. Give me something to do besides watch whatever Netflix thinks I should watch.”

“Excellent. I will call you tomorrow, then. I love you, Dean.”

“Love ya, too, Cas.”

He doesn’t want to hang up, so he lets Cas do it. When the call is ended, he sets his phone down with a sigh and turns his attention back to his cereal. It’s going to be a long few days.

* * *

Cas calls in the morning, just as Dean finishes cleaning up his breakfast dishes.

“This is Dean,” he says, propping it between his shoulder and cheek so he can focus on drying his hands.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas says, sounding far too awake considering he’s in a timezone an hour behind Dean.

“Hiya, Cas,” Dean replies, brightening up. The sound of his boyfriend’s voice always helps him feel better. “You’re up early.”

“I went for a run with Sam this morning. I was not very good at it, but it was a good way to wake up.”

“Crazy people,” Dean grumbles, though there’s no heat to his words.

“Perhaps. We just got back from the coroner’s office. It looked like a standard werewolf hunt in the news, but I think we may be looking at something else.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, the time of the month is wrong, so I thought we must just be looking at a pureblood, but bodies don’t have the usual mauling we see in a werewolf attack. In fact, all four men appear relatively unharmed, if you do not look at the holes in their chests.”

Dean nods, taking all this in. “Anything else?”

“According to the reports from the wives, they all believed their husbands were being unfaithful.”

“It’s a kumiho,” Dean says without hesitation. Sam definitely could have told Cas that, but he appreciates that his boyfriend decided to include him. “But there’s not really a way to kill one as far as I know, only to make it human. If one goes a thousand days without killing or eating humans, it’ll become human.”

“That will not be easy,” Cas muses. “We could keep it in the dungeon of the bunker, but that feels rather unsafe.”

“What about Garth’s?” Dean suggests. “A bunch of hippie werewolves might be exactly what it needs to change its ways.”

“Excellent idea. I’ll ask Sam to call him and tell you what we decide tonight.”

“Sounds good. Go kick some monster ass, babe.”

Cas chuckles. “I will.”

* * *

Garth’s family is, thankfully, all too willing to take in a kumiho, who admits she wants to stop, but is unsure how. Dean’s never been more relieved as when Cas calls to tell him Garth picked up the kumiho- who’s name is Ashley- and that he and Sam are on their way home.

Dean’s pretty sure by this point that he does not like being left alone in the bunker. They’re going to have to think of something else if Cas wants to keep hunting with Sam.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

“Please can I go with you?”

Dean’s pulled out all the stops- green eyes wide and pleading, pink lips in the perfect pout. Now Cas knows where Sam learned it.

“And you’re sure you won’t be bored at the motel?” he says incredulously. He knows his boyfriend. Dean is going to be bored out of his mind.

“Not any more bored than I’ll be at home,” Dean insists. “I’ll just do what I do at home when you guys are gone- eat junk food and listen to random Netflix recommendations.”

Cas sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. It’s like dealing with a child some days, if he’s honest with himself. He knows Dean’s going to be miserable, but he also knows Dean will be even more miserable if Cas insists he stay home. There’s really no winning in this situation.

“Fine,” he relents, unable to stop a smile at the way Dean’s face lights up. “But I don’t want to hear complaining when you get bored.”

“I won’t get bored,” Dean assures him.

* * *

Dean forgot how hard long drives are when you’re not the one driving. How Sam handled it for so many years without going completely insane, Dean has no idea.

He takes turns with Sam to control the radio, which makes things more interesting. Cas brought their book and Sam doesn’t mind if he reads out loud, so they make it through a few short stories before Cas’ throat starts to get sore. Dean sleeps a while, head against the cool glass of the window, and sleep makes the drive go faster.

Maybe he should’ve waited for a closer hunt before insisting on going with them.

* * *

The motel room smells musty. Dean wrinkles his nose, hesitantly sitting on the end of the bed he’ll be sharing with Cas and setting his duffel at his feet. One upside of not being sexually active as a couple is they don’t have to worry as much about having their own room, which saves them a good chunk of cash.

“How sanitary is this place?” he asks, making a face.

“No worse than any other motel we’ve stayed in,” Sam tells him, the words followed by the sound of a duffel hitting a mattress.

“We should try and stay nicer places.”

Sam snorts. “Yeah. When we win the lottery.”

“Not that unlikely. Betcha we could find another rabbit’s foot.”

“Yeah, like that worked out so well last time.”

“Well, there’s no Bela around this time. We can destroy it as soon as we’re millionaires.”

“Foolproof,” Sam snickers.

“You know it.” Dean flops back on the bed, hands behind his head. “So. What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to change to our suits,” Cas says, “and go to the station. Hopefully we’ll get useful information from the officers or the coroner.”

“Then to the witnesses?”

“Then to the witnesses,” Cas agrees, sitting next to Dean on the bed and leaning down to kiss his forehead. Dean hums softly at the contact.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll hang out here. See if there’s anything interesting on pay-per-view.” he winks in the direction of his boyfriend. He knows both of the other men are rolling their eyes.

Sam and Cas change quickly. Dean listens to them talking quietly, not really paying attention to what they’re actually saying. He perks up when Cas sits on the bed again.

“Alright, we’re going now,” Cas tells him, brushing his hand through Dean’s hair. “We will return in several hours. The TV remote is on the table between the beds. The cane is next to it. Any requests for while we’re gone?”

“Bring food,” Dean demands. “Turn off the lights when you leave- it’s not like I need them- and don’t do anything stupid.”

Cas chuckles at the same time as Sam hits the light switch, the click barely audible from across the room. “I’ll do my best.”

When the door clicks shut behind them, Dean rolls over and feels around for the remote. He finds the power button and turns on the TV. It sounds like it’s on the Hallmark channel. He flips through a few channels until he lands on a rerun of an early X-Files episode- by the sound of it, it’s the one where they think they’re after the Jersey Devil. Dean kicks off his shoes and scoots up further on the bed, settling his head on one of the pillows.

He’s got the TV on, but isn’t really paying attention to it. He’s too busy focusing on his own body and how he’s feeling. Cas would call it meditation or something, but that’s not important. What’s important is the heat in his lower belly that was there when he woke up this morning and hasn’t faded no matter what he’s tried. He hasn’t touched himself since long before he lost his sight- he hadn’t had a reason before. What can he say? He and Cas were busy. He knows their active sex life drove Sam up the wall, but he only complained if they got too loud. Regardless, Dean hasn’t jerked off in months and he’s just now realizing how pent up he is.

Dean lets his hands drift lower across his belly and hips, gently rubbing. He wants to take this slow. If he doesn’t, it’ll be over too quickly and he’ll regret it. So he moves in circles, slowly making his way inward until he can rub across the quickly hardening line of his cock where it’s pressing against his zipper. He settles for that, allowing himself to just feel. The sensations are almost unfamiliar, but he welcomes them like old friends as they shake his thighs and tremble his spine.

When he can’t wait any longer, he unzips his jeans and kicks them off. They fall over the end of the bed, sound muffled by Mulder and Scully’s banter, and are followed by a carelessly tossed flannel. His t-shirt goes next, leaving him in his boxers and the socks he’s too lazy to take off.

Happy with his current state of undressed, he shifts his hips around a little until he’s more comfortable. No sense in pulling his back or something while getting himself off. Cas would never let him live it down.

Dean returns his attention to his cock, running the tip of one finger from base to crown. He circles the head a minute, shivering at the little sparks of pleasure in the sensitive nerves. His cock jumps under his hand and his sinks his teeth into his lower lip to distract himself a little. He plays his favorite spots until there’s a little puddle of precome soaking his boxers. Only then does he lift his hips a little and slide the remaining piece of clothing off. The motel room air is cool on the heated skin of his erection and helps to calm him down a little, which is good.

Fuck, he left the lube in his wallet.

He reluctantly sits up and scoots down to the end of the bed. He finds his jeans and the wallet in his back pocket. Inside, exactly where he put it when he got dressed this morning, is a little packet of lube. It’s not much, but it’s enough for what he has in mind.

Lube in hand, Dean quickly resettles on the bed. His erection has flagged a little with the lack of attention, but a couple hard tugs on his nipples are enough to solve that problem. He sets the lube in the center of his chest and focuses his attention on the little nubs, both of which have always been a direct line to his cock. Each squeeze has his dick leaping against his belly, leaving little strings of precome in its wake. A particularly hard twist makes his back arch involuntarily and he has to throw a hand down to the base of his cock to stop himself from cumming.

“Fuck,” he gasps, forcing himself to breathe deeply and calm down.

When he’s not so close to the edge, Dean picks up the lube and carefully tears it open. He spent extra time this morning cleaning himself really well- it’s been awhile since he’s done this- and he doesn’t hesitate to dip lube slicked fingers down behind his balls, over the silky smooth skin of his taint, to his hole. He has to take things extra slow here, since he’s so out of practice. Part of him wishes he’d thought to bring one or two of the many toys he and Cas have collected over the years, but he didn’t really plan this that far in advance. His fingers will have to make do for today.

A lot of massaging and patience has to happen before Dean can push the first finger in. His body fights it for a moment before he’s able to relax and take his finger to the second knuckle. He’s not sure he’ll get much further than this- his cock, though untouched for the last little while, is rock hard and aching. He can imagine the deep red color it must be turning. His balls are already drawing up, despite any desire to make this last longer.

When he crooks his finger just right and strikes his prostate dead on, that’s it. His whole body tenses, curling up and in, and his cock spurts untouched in long streaks across his belly. It feels like white lightning up his spine, temporarily shorting out his brain. He quivers through a long series of aftershocks that make his legs feel like some weird combination of jello and cooked pasta.

Dean’s a tiny bit embarrassed with how easy that was, but he’s also surprised he held off for so long- not that he really knows how long he was at it. Felt longer than it probably was.

When his legs are steadier, Dean rolls off the bed. He grabs the cane and uses it to successfully find his way to the bathroom. He takes the time to feel out the tub- how high the wall is, where the showerhead and knobs are placed, where the curtain rod is in comparison to his head. He would rather not have a shower-related incident when Cas and Sam are nowhere around to help him. That could be bad.

Despite the questionable cleanliness of the joint, the motel’s water pressure is surprisingly decent. Not as good as the bunker’s, of course, but Dean’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He washes with the little bar of soap, too tired to try and figure out the bottles. Once he’s dry, he digs some comfier clothes from his duffel and lays down once again. The episode he remembers listening to is over and another one has started, but the TV is still mostly there as white noise. Dean’s too worn out to really care. As soon as his head hits the pillow, he’s asleep.

Unfortunately, Dean only had the foresight to bring the one packet of lube, so his orgasms over the next few days involve nothing internal- he’s still too out of practice to feel safe about sticking stuff up his butt without something more intense than saliva to ease the way- but he has discovered they’re a good way to pass some time when Cas and Sam are away from the room for long hours gathering the info they need. None of the other orgasms wear him out as much as that first one, but he doesn’t mind that so much.

Even orgasms can get boring, though, and even though he has helped Sam and Cas work out who the ghost was, Dean is bored out of his fucking mind. He needs more ways to entertain himself if he wants to make this “going on hunts” thing a regular habit.

* * *

Cas is not surprised at all when he and Sam return to the motel room after finally burning the ghost to find Dean sprawling on his back, head hanging off the end of the bed in a dark room.

“Dare I ask?” he chuckles, eyeing his boyfriend as Sam flicks on the lights.

“Bored,” Dean moans.

“I had guessed as much,” Cas says, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Dean upright into his arms.

“Don’t you dare say I told you so,” Dean grumbles, looping his arms around Cas’ waist and burying his face in his shoulder.

“I told you so,” is Cas’ only reply.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

“Cas, we need to go to the store.”

Cas looks up from his book and lifts an eyebrow at his boyfriend, forgetting for a moment that Dean can’t see his expression. “Um… why?”

“We just need to go,” Dean insists. “Come on! Let’s go!”

“Whoa, are you certain?”

“Of course I am, Cas.”

“Forgive me for being wary, but where did this sudden inclination to go to the grocery store come from?” Cas asks.

“Thanksgiving is in a few days and Jody invited us to have dinner at her house, remember?”

“Yes, I remember.” He especially remembers Dean being nervous, but excited by the invitation. It will be his first real Thanksgiving meal.

“Well, she asked if I would be willing to make some pies,” Dean admits, voice quiet, as if this isn’t something he’s quite ready to be broadcasting to the world. “We don’t have the right ingredients.”

 _Ah. There it is._  “Well, give me a list and I’ll go.”

Dean shakes his head. “No, I have to go. I have to do this, Cas. Please?”

Cas gently takes Dean’s hand. “Of course. Which car do you want to take?”

“The Impala, of course.” Dean holds up the keys. “Now, come on! I have a lot of work to do.”

* * *

Dean’s leg bounces the entire drive to the store and Cas knows it’s not because of his driving- the white-knuckle grip on the door is because of his driving, even though Dean has told him before that he is a very good driver. No, the bouncing leg is because Dean’s nerves concerning actually entering the grocery store are rising the closer they get to their destination. When Cas finally parks in front of the store, he’s almost sure Dean is so tense moving might do him irreparable harm.

“Dean,” Cas says softly. “You don’t have to go in. I can find the ingredients you need.”

Dean shakes his head, setting his jaw. “No. I can do this. I have to do this, Cas.”

“Alright. If at any point you want to come back to the car, we can do that.”

“We won’t need to,” Dean says. There’s a firmness in his voice, but it sounds more like he’s trying to persuade himself than Cas.

* * *

Dean clings tight to Cas’ hand. He has the cane in his other hand, but he trusts Cas more than he does a long metal stick and is relying more heavily on his boyfriend. Cas leads him across the parking lot and through the automatic doors.

The sounds are the most overwhelming part- conversations and cash registers beeping and the radio and somewhere near the rear of the store a child is crying. Dean’s entire body goes stiff.

“Dean,” Cas murmurs, releasing his hand to loop his arm around Dean’s waist. “Stay with me. You’re just fine. Look, we’re going to get a cart. Feel the cart?”

The plastic of the handle is solid and cool beneath Dean’s palm. He nods.

“Focus on me. Focus on the cart. Can you do that?”

“I think so,” Dean manages.

“Alright. Where is your list?”

Dean switches his cane over to hold it against the cart handle with his thumb and free up his hand to dig for the folded piece of paper. The list is in Sam’s neat handwriting, he knows- after all, it was Sam who wrote it for him. Dean passes it over to Cas.

“These should be easy to find,” Cas tells him. “Come on. We’ll start with the apples.”

The produce section is a little quieter- further from noisy checkouts and screaming children. Dean is able to turn his attention to choosing the perfect apples. Cas spots mini bottles of sparkling cider in a display and Dean permits three to be added to the cart. He’s not sure when they’ll drink them, but he’s sure Cas will find a reason sooner or later.

Next, they get sticks of butter flavored Crisco from the baking aisle- Dean was skeptical when he heard Donna’s suggestion, but he’s all for trying something new. He’s never really made a pie before. What does he know about making a crust? He’s going to have to have Sam or Cas help him with some research if he wants to do this right.

They don’t have enough flour left at home, so Dean makes sure to grab a big bag of all-purpose. Then they gather all the spices needed to complete a good apple pie spice. Cas finds the other fillings easily- Dean wants to make cherry and pumpkin pie in addition to a classic apple one- and suddenly their list is complete.

“I thought that would take longer,” Dean admits as they make their way back toward the front. He’s not looking forward to checking out, but it’s not something he can avoid.

“You handled all the stimulation very well. I believe that helped speed the process- we did not spend as much time as you might have expected helping you to calm down upon entering the store.”

Dean shrugs. “Probably.”

The front of the store is the most crowded. Dean hangs onto the back of Cas’ jacket with his left hand, the cane in his right hand carefully tapping. One perk of being blind is that people seem to part the way when they notice him. He’s not just how he really feels about that, but he’s not complaining just now.

Cas picks a line that’s moving a little faster and they get through pretty quick. Though Dean was getting used to the sounds of the store, he’s relieved when he’s finally able to sink into the now very familiar passenger seat of the Impala.

“I think that could be considered a success,” Cas says, turning on the car.

“It definitely wasn’t a failure,” Dean agrees. “Now to make a successful pie.”

* * *

Pie, as it turns out, is not as difficult as he had been led to believe. Once he’s done some thorough research- with some help from his trusty sidekick geek boy- he feels much more confident in his ability to make these pies.

Dean enlists Cas’ help and they start with the cherry, which sounds like the easiest. They make two- a test one so he can be sure he’s making the crust correctly and cooking it long enough, and then a final one to take to Jody’s. Once Dean is certain of his dough, he puts Cas to work peeling and slicing the apples while Dean makes the pumpkin pie. This one proves to be a little trickier, specifically when it comes to telling if it’s done.

“Well, it’s not jiggling, I don’t think,” Cas says, bent over to peer into the oven alongside Dean.

“Do I dare try the knife trick?” Dean asks. “If the knife comes out clean, the pie is done, but it could leave a crack in the filling when it cools.”

“Well, if you don’t mind a crack, try the knife test. But I don’t believe the filling is jiggling.”

“I’m gonna take your word for it,” Dean decides. Cas takes it out- they want to leave the oven on so they don’t have to wait on it between pies. “How’re the apples coming?”

“I’m almost finished.”

“Good, because the crust and the spices are ready.”

* * *

Dean’s really happy with his pies. He proudly sets them out on the table after the leftovers have been distributed and everyone’s ready for pie.

“Dean, those look incredible,” Jody tells him, looping her arm around his waist. “Thank you for making them for us.”

“Thank you for asking me,” Dean says honestly. “I probably woulda been too nervous to ever try otherwise, but now I know I can make pie and I know I can survive the grocery store.”

She plants a kiss on his cheek. “I’m proud of you, big guy.”

He ducks his head. “Thanks, Jody. That means a lot to me.” Only she can hear it, and it has her eyes watering a bit.

She clears her throat so Dean can’t hear the emotion in her voice. “Come on, let’s enjoy some of these masterpieces you worked so hard on.”

The boys spend the night at Jody’s- it’s too late by the time Jody’s neighbors and extended family start to trickle out the door for them to drive back to the bunker. Dean and Cas take the spare room while Sam settles down on the pullout in the front room.

Dean crawls beneath the covers and tucks himself against his boyfriend’s side, nuzzling against Cas’ collarbone.

“Those pies were amazing,” Cas tells him.

“Yeah?”

“You had better make some more between now and next Thanksgiving.”

“I might be persuaded to make some for Christmas. Maybe we can find some new filling recipes.”

Cas kisses Dean’s hair. “Excellent idea.”

Dean tilts his chin up. “Kiss me, Cas?”

“Happily.”

The kiss is slow and sweet. Dean hums softly and lets himself soak in the comfort of Cas’ body against his. There’s nothing sexual about it- just love.

“I’m thankful for you,” Dean murmurs, bringing a hand up to stroke Cas’ cheek. Stubble lightly pricks his skin and he loves it. “Thank you for being here for me.”

“I will always be here for you, Dean. Thank you for trusting me enough to let me be here. I love you.”

Dean kisses him again. “Sap.”

“I do believe you started it.”

“Mmm, you can’t prove anything.”

Cas chuckles, knocking his nose gently against Dean’s. “Go to sleep.”

“Yes, sir.”


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Kissing Cas is quickly moving back up to the top of Dean’s list of favorite past times. He still can’t bring himself to move beyond that, though, and it’s frustrating beyond belief. He wants to be that intimate with Cas again, but there’s something he can’t quite figure out what’s holding him back. He knows it’s just all in his head, but he can’t get it out of his head.

Apparently the solution, as he discovers by accident, is to just not think about things so damn hard.  _Who’da figured?_

“So beautiful like this,” Cas murmurs, breath warm against Dean’s jaw. The pair is lying together in their shared bed. It’s early morning and while Dean doesn’t usually wake up this early, waking up to Cas kissing him makes everything better.

Dean hums softly, feeling like his body is melting into the bed, he’s so relaxed.

Cas’ hands trail over Dean’s shoulders and biceps as his mouth sucks little marks down Dean’s neck. “So soft,” he sighs. “And warm.”

Dean’s cock is already stirring in his boxers. He can’t help the way his hips shift upward, grinding against a thick thigh. He loves Cas’ thighs. Maybe today is the day to get reacquainted with them.

“This is okay?” Cas asks, lifting his head a little. Always the mindful lover.

“Very okay,” Dean assures him. “Just… not all the way, yeah?”

“Understood.”

Cas ducks his head down to nip at Dean’s pulse point, prompting the blind man to tip his head back against the pillow, exposing the line of his neck to his lover’s exploration. One hand drifts around to his chest, rubbing gently at one nipple through his t-shirt. Dean bites his lip and arches into the contact. Touching himself feels great, but being touched by Cas is so much more intense.

Why the hell did he delay this for so long?

“I’m going to put my hand under your shirt,” Cas warns him, hand already moving lower.

Dean nods. He whines when he finally feels skin on skin, the calluses of Cas’ palm against the softness of his belly. Fingertips trace over scars- scratches from a werewolf, a deep one from when he tripped over his own feet on a wendigo hunt and feel head over ass down a hill. Cas carefully finds each one, as if he’s doing an inventory of Dean’s body or something. Making sure it’s just like he remembers it.

“Missed this,” Cas whispers, mouth at Dean’s collarbone now. “Missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” Dean admits.

Those questing fingers finally-  _finally_ \- reach his pecs. Only then does Cas shift to straddle Dean’s hips, leaving both hands free to explore Dean’s chest. He teases at the sensitive peaks of Dean’s nipples, working them into hard little buds before really going to town. Dean moans and grinds his hips up against the growing hardness of Cas’ erection, separated only by the thin fabric of their boxers. Dean misses the days when they slept naked. He can’t wait to get to that point again. For now, though, the sensations Cas’ hands are creating are making it a little hard to think.

“I wanna touch your cock.” Cas’ voice is low, a growl that has said cock twitching where it’s trapped between their bodies.

“Please,” Dean gasps, fingers digging into the sheets beneath him.

Cas hands move down to his hips, tracing the line of them until he reaches the hem of Dean’s boxers. They play there, just hinting at what’s to come, before Cas scoots back to sit on Dean’s thighs, effectively trapping his legs, and slowly pulls the offending item of clothing down.

Dean whimpers at the wash of cool air over his heated erection, but he makes an even less dignified noise when the wet heat of Cas’ breath follows.

“Just as pretty as I remember,” Cas says, nose tracing the line of the vein that runs along the underside. “You’re already so hard for me. How long has it been?”

“I, uh… I jerked off a few weeks ago,” Dean admits. “When I went with you on that hunt. But that was the first time since I, ya know…”

“Mmm.” Cas nuzzles the tip before sitting up. “How was that?”

“Intense,” he says honestly.

“I bet.” Cas runs a single fingertip up the path his nose just followed, stopping this time to rub tiny circles around sensitive point just under the head. “I’m going to take my time, Dean, but I don’t want you to hold back. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Cas wraps his hand around the base of Dean’s cock. He sets a slow, but steady rhythm, only stopping to get some lube from one of the nightstands. Cas keeps the pace the same, not even speeding up when Dean’s body begins to tremble. Dean groans and bucks up into Cas’ hand, desperate for something a little more, but he doesn’t get it. Cas is patient, endlessly so, and he likes to do his best to force Dean to be more patient as well.

Dean’s hands jump to claw at his lover’s arms. “Cas, please, I can’t-”

“You can,” Cas tells him. “You’ve done it before. You can do it again. Come on, sweetheart.”

That’s really all Dean needs- Cas’ encouragement. He whines and moans and shakes his way through an orgasm that leaves him feeling like a puddle on the bed. Cas works every aftershock out of his body, only stopping when pleasure begins to turn to pain.

“That was amazing, Dean,” Cas praises, sliding over to stretch out beside him on the bed. “I love watching you cum for me.” Lube slick fingers brush against the line of Dean’s jaw. “Seeing you like that is a gift. Thank you for trusting me with it.”

“No chick flick moments,” Dean teases lightly.

“You love it.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m filthy now. Thanks for that.”

“Let’s go conserve water, then,” Cas suggests.

The idea is tempting, but also makes Dean’s stomach twist. “I would… I would rather shower alone.”

He knows Cas is disappointed, but thankfully his boyfriend doesn’t voice that. Instead, he kisses the corner of Dean’s mouth. “Alright. I’ll set some clothes out for you, if that’s okay?”

“Okay,” Dean agrees. “I would like that.”

* * *

When Dean gets out of the shower, he finds his favorite jeans, what feels like his old Led Zeppelin shirt, a flannel, and clean boxers waiting for him on the counter. When he picks up the boxers, though, he discovers that Cas left him another option- a pair of silky panties Dean has a feeling are pink.

He ponders the choice for a lot longer than he probably needs to before sliding the panties up his legs. He’d forgotten how much he really enjoys wearing them. This is a huge step, he knows, but he’s glad Cas didn’t make a big deal out of it. He left the decision up to Dean.

Dean’s a little unsure of his choice at first, but the sound Cas’ makes when Dean lets questing hands slip down the back of his jeans while he’s doing the dishes… that makes everything worth it.

* * *

To say their sex life progresses slowly from that point would be an understatement. Dean feels luckier and luckier to have Cas as his partner with every day that goes by where they never make it further than handjobs. As Cas explains it, he lived a millennia before experiencing sex. Having to wait a few months for Dean to feel comfortable and ready before having sex again is not a big deal.

Well, they’re not exactly  _not_  having sex. Dean’s pretty sure he remembers waking Cas up with a blowjob yesterday morning. But this, right here, this is something new to his blind existence.

“Fuck,” he breathes, arms looped tight around Cas’ shoulders. Their hips are rocking slowly together, hard cocks side by side. Dean’s impossibly turned on- the feeling of his boyfriend’s body pressed against his like this, legs tangled together as their hips find a rhythm, is something he’s missed. “ _Cas_.”

“I’ve got you,” Cas murmurs. “I’m here, Dean.”

Dean tucks his head against his lover’s shoulder, breathing in the musky, sweaty smell of his lover. The heat and the strength are more than enough to push Dean over the edge. He jerks in Cas’ embrace, groaning into smooth skin as he makes a mess between their bellies. Cas follows quickly.

“That was… wow,” Dean gasps, holding tight to Cas before the man can roll off of him. “Can we just… lay here? For a little bit?”

“Of course,” Cas replies, nuzzling at Dean’s cheek. “We can lay here for as long as you like. We might be a bit stuck together when we eventually get up, though.”

Dean snickers, nudging Cas’ thigh with his knee. Yes. This is good. He’s glad he gets to have it again.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

“Sam, I think the heater is on the fritz again,” Dean says, tapping his way into the library with a heavy blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“It’s not that cold,” Sam says.

“Not all of us are giant heaters.” he finds his brother’s leg where it’s sprawled on one side of the chair and kicks it, perhaps a little harder than necessary. “Fix it.”

“Bossy, much?”

“I might be blind, but I can still find where you sleep.”

He knows Sam’s making one of his signature “fuck you, Dean” faces, but he doesn’t care. All that matters is Sam grumbling his way down the hall to take a look at the heater.

“You could ask nicer,” Cas suggests, startling Dean a little bit. He hadn’t realized his boyfriend was also in the library, though he would have if he hadn’t been too focused on bugging Sam to notice the sound of another person breathing.

“Meh. What kind of big brother would that make me?”

Cas chuckles, scooting his chair back. He tugs at Dean’s blanket until the older Winchester is standing between his knees, so he can wrap his arms around Dean’s waist and press his face into a soft belly.

“The weather said it’s supposed to snow today,” Cas tells him. “Would you like to go check with me?”

“But it’s cold outside,” Dean whines.

“Which will make it seem warmer in here. Come on, you can bring your blanket.”

Dean pouts, but relents and allows himself to be lead up the stairs and out of the bunker. Cas stops in the threshold, causing Dean to collide with his back.

“What’s up?” Dean asks, slipping a hand from his blanket to grip the back of Cas’ shirt.

“It’s snowing,” Cas says, voice full of awe. He grabs Dean’s free hand and pulls it around to hold it in front of him. Dean’s pressed right up against Cas’ back, nose in his hair. “Feel it?”

Sure enough, light, cold somethings are landing on Dean’s hand. Snow.

“Oh,” he says quietly, wiggling his fingers a little. “That’s nice. Cold, but nice.”

Cas strokes the inside of Dean’s wrist with his thumb. “It’s beautiful. Maybe we can play in it later?”

He sounds so damn hopeful. There’s no way Dean can say no. Instead, he shrugs and kisses the base of Cas’ skull. “We probably have snow gear somewhere,” he says. “If we can find it, we’ll play in the snow. Deal?”

“Deal,” Cas agrees.

Sam’s voice wafts up through the tunnel then. “Guys, where’d you go?”

“Up here, Sam!” Dean calls back. He hears the familiar sound of his brother’s boots on the stairs. A few moments later, Sam arrives behind him.

“What are you- whoa! It’s snowing!”

Dean nods, holding his blanket tighter around himself. It’s starting to get cold, standing here in the open doorway while snowflakes land on his hand. Cas notices this and pulls Dean’s hand in to tuck it against his chest.

“Beautiful,” he repeats, but this time Dean has a feeling he’s not talking about the snow.

* * *

“Sam, do we still have snow gear?” Dean asks when the three of them are once again in the safety of the library.

“We might,” Sam replies. “It would be in one of the storage rooms. I don’t remember exactly what we have, though. It’s been awhile since we needed it.”

“Do you think we could go look for it later? Cas wants to play in the snow, but it’s damn cold out there.”

Sam chuckles. “Yeah, sure. Does after lunch sound good?”

“After lunch sounds perfect,” Cas tells him.

* * *

“Alright, so my stuff  _should_  fit you fine,” Dean says, digging through the box Sam pulled out of the storage room they’ve commandeered for their own stuff- not that they have much, but it’s good to have somewhere to put stuff when they don’t need it. The trunk of the Impala is a little emptier now as a result. “And I can just wear Sam’s stuff today. But we’re gonna have to get you your own at some point.”

“Okay,” Cas agrees, taking the coat and snow pants Dean shoves at him. “You may have to help me put these on.”

Dean chuckles, pulling the heavy snow boots from the bottom of the box. “I think I can do that.”

“Good. I want to go play in the snow now.”

“Well, let’s go get ready.”

* * *

It takes some work to get both of them into the heavy-duty gear and Dean kinda wishes he could see how ridiculously adorable Cas probably looks.

“I think we shall be plenty warm,” Cas decides when he’s dressed. “I want to make snow angels.”

“Have you ever made a snow angel before?” Dean asks, following his boyfriend up the stairs.

“Nope! You’ll have to show me.”

Dean smiles fondly. “I think I can do that. And then we can build a snowman.”

“Yes!”

Cas excitement is infectious and Dean feels a little thrill he hasn’t felt in a while. He honestly can’t remember the last time he played in the snow- he was probably really young. There wasn’t always a lot of time to play when John was around, though he did his best to make sure that Sam got to enjoy himself whenever possible. They didn’t stay a lot of places that got a decent amount of snow, either, so it wasn’t an option. In fact, they only got their snow gear after a case up north in the dead of January- werewolves who were apparently part Russian or something, because they definitely didn’t mind the cold as much as the boys did.

The air outside the bunker is crisp and cold. Dean immediately tucks his scarf tighter over his nose- cold weather never really was his thing. Cas, however, is thoroughly enjoying himself and they’ve only made footprints.

“It’s so beautiful!” Cas says, spinning around. Dean can hear the soft crunch of his boots in the snow. “So smooth as far as I can see.”

Dean can imagine it in his mind- the endless stretch of untouched snow surrounding them for miles. He bends and scoops up a generous handful. It packs in his hand just the way he wants it to. He forms a ball and tosses it in Cas’ direction.

“Hey!” Cas doesn’t sound mad at all, thankfully. Dean just grins. “Oh, it’s on now.”

This turns out to be Dean’s first real life opportunity to use all the combat skills he’s spent months working on down in the gym. The snow gives him good warning when Cas moves, allowing him to avoid his returning snowball, and helps him pinpoint where to throw his own. They throw a few more back and forth before Cas gets close enough to loop his arms around Dean’s torso, pinning his arms to his side.

“Gotcha,” Cas teases, leaning in to press the cold tip of his nose against Dean’s cheek, laughing at the blind man’s undignified squawk.

“I’ll get you for this,” Dean protests, wriggling in his lover’s embrace without really trying to get free.

“Mmm. We’ll worry about that later. Come on, I want to make snow angels.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Okay. Find some snow we haven’t trampled.”

“Over here!”

Cas lets go of Dean, pretty much bouncing away. Dean follows.

“We’re going to lay down in the snow,” he explains, demonstrating as he speaks. “And move our arms and legs like this-” he waves his limbs, pushing and packing the snow to make the iconic shape before getting up. “See, the arms make the angel wings.”

“That looks nothing like an angel,” Cas points out.

Dean laughs, shaking his head. “It’s supposed to be just a simplified version of the way people imagine angels look. For fun.”

“Oh! I understand.”

Dean hears Cas huff as he lays down a little ways away, and then the sounds of snow being rearranged. When Cas is satisfied, he gets up and examines his creation.

“I think I’m good at this,” he decides.

Dean reaches over and weaves his fingers through his boyfriend’s. “I’m sure you are.”

* * *

By the time they go inside, both men are very cold despite their many layers. Still, Dean’s quite happy to strip off all the snow gear, leaving it draped over chairs in the war room to dry before they can put it away. He doesn’t hesitate to drag Cas to the shower, strip them both down, and get under some hot water to warm up quicker. He doesn’t even realize that it’s the first time they’ve been naked with each other until Cas points it out while scrubbing shampoo into Dean’s hair.

“It is,” Dean agrees. He loops an arm around Cas’ waist, forearm falling in the small of his lover’s back, and presses a kiss to Cas’ jaw. “I don’t know why I avoided it for so long.”

“Better to wait until you were ready than to push yourself too fast,” Cas tells him, careful to keep soap from running into Dean’s eyes. “I’m glad we waited. Waiting is what you needed.”

Dean can feel heat in his cheeks. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Cas replies, hands drifting down Dean’s back to cup his ass, pressing their bodies together. Dean is more than happy to return that favor. “Shall we try another way to warm up?”

Dean bites his lip, feeling Cas’ hardening cock against his hip bone. He brings a hand to between them, wrapping his fingers around both of their erections and pulling a groan from the other man’s chest. “I think that’s a good idea.”


	21. Chapter Twenty

Christmas always comes simultaneously too quickly and not fast enough, in Dean’s honest opinion that no one asked for and Cas hears anyways.

They’ve decided to do a celebration at the bunker this year- it’s not like they don’t have the space. Sam spends a long time calling all of their living friends- Garth can’t come this year, but promises to clear his calendar for next year. All the girls can come, though- Jody and Donna volunteer to show up a couple days early and help cook. Claire and Alex will come on their own the next day, and Eileen assures Sam she will arrive sometime that day as well. All three men worked together to get things properly decorated, including a lovely tree in the library. The bunker smells almost permanently of cookies of all different kinds as Dean perfects his recipes- Sam and Cas are more than happy to be his taste testers.

Jody and Donna arrive the day before Christmas Eve, dropping a pile of presents under the tree before hugging all three men. Dean loves having them there- sometimes living in a bunker of all men gets exhausting. It’s nice to have a woman’s touch on things, even if it is temporary. Both ladies like to help him in the kitchen, more than happy to take on part of the workload for the big Christmas Eve dinner Dean has planned. He also has a big breakfast planned for Christmas morning, but that’s going in the crockpots Jody and Donna brought, and they don’t have to make it until tomorrow night.

Dean’s nervous to have other people in the bunker. Charlie, Alex, Claire, and Eileen have all been talked to and informed, but none of them have seen Dean in person yet. He shouldn’t be this nervous about this, but he is and he knows everyone around him knows he is.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Jody assures him. She’s brushing an egg wash on the top of a cherry pie. “You’re still the same Dean we know and love.”

“Exactly,” Donna agrees. “Nothing’s gonna change how much everyone loves you.”

Dean’s cheeks are burning. He nods.

“Now, what’s the plan with the turkey tomorrow?”

Dean’s happy for the distraction. Everyone else will be arriving around noon, leaving plenty of time for mingling before and after a big meal. Sam got some board games out and set the pile on the end of the library table. Hopefully those will keep people busy and out of the kitchen so Dean and the sheriffs can work. In the meantime, they need to come up with a game plan.

“I’m going to put the turkey in the brine tonight,” Dean says. “It’s a twenty-pound turkey, so how long would that cook for?”

“Twenty minutes a pound is recommended,” Jody tells him. “Twenty times twenty is four hundred, four hundred divided by sixty is…” she pulls out her phone and does the math on the calculator “About six hours and forty-five minutes. What time do you want to eat?”

“I was planning on four, four-thirty. So… we need to put it in by nine-thirty or so. Right?”

“Right,” Donna agrees. “That gives us plenty of time to make all the other dishes. What are you planning on?”

“Stuffing, rolls, and mashed potatoes are my job,” Dean says. “Sam also wants a ham and he’s going to make a vegetable tray. Cas is in charge of jello, which he should start soon. Unless he manages to forget about boiling water again, in which case he’ll be bumped to the library.”

Jody laughs. “How about we help you with the sides, so Sam and Cas can entertain your guests?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Dean,” she scolds. “We already offered to help. Why replace the experienced cooks with a couple of guys who could ruin microwave ramen?”

Dean chuckles. “Good point. I’ll let the guys know they’ve been kicked off kitchen duty. I’m sure they’ll be really broken up.”

* * *

“Thank God,” Sam says, dramatically slumping in his seat.

“Wow. Feeling the love,” Dean teases.

“Dean, we do love you,” Cas assures him. “We just don’t love working in the kitchen with you.”

Dean pouts. “I’m not that bad.”

“No, you’re that bad,” Sam says, tone light. “Very bossy.”

“Rude.”

“You love us.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Cas throws his arm around Dean’s waist. “No, Dean! I’m sorry!”

Dean chuckles and ruffles his boyfriend’s hair. “I’m not really mad, Cas. I’m just teasing you guys.”

Cas ducks his head, seemingly a little sheepish. “Oh.”

“You guys are good to keep everyone entertained until dinner’s ready, right?” Dean asks, petting Cas’ head.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Sam assures him. “We’ll just spend the time sharing embarrassing stories about you. I’m sure we’ve all got a few.”

Cas snickers, still tucked against Dean’s belly. “I’ve got some good ones.”

“Hey!” Dean shoves at Cas’ shoulder. “Those are private!”

“Oh, no, not those ones,” Cas says. “I have other ones.”

“I don’t like the sound of that at all. I have a feeling these are stories I would rather not relive.”

“Well, you won’t have to hear them, you’ll be busy making dinner,” Cas points out.

“Hmm. Good point. Keep it PG-13 and don’t tell me about it later.”

“Deal.”

* * *

Charlie arrives first on Christmas Eve. Dean hears her before she gets to the library where Dean is instructing Cas in peeling potatoes- she bounces down the steps with a shout of “What’s up, bitches?” that’s followed by a loud “oof” which is likely the result of her tiny body slamming into Sam’s chest.

“Hi, Charlie,” the younger Winchester says.

“I missed you, big guy,” she tells him. “Now, where’s your brother?”

“In here,” Dean calls, dropping a kiss on the top of Cas’ head and straightening up.

He hears the sound of boots on hardwood and then slender arms loop around his waist. “Dean!”

“Hey,” he says, twisting to return her hug. He holds her tight, feeling all the tension melt from his body at the feeling of his adopted sister in his arms. “Missed you, sweetheart.”

She nods, laying her head on his chest so he can kiss her hair. “Missed you, too.”

“Hi, Charlie,” Cas says brightly. “It’s good  to see you.”

“Hi, Cas.” Dean feels her waving behind his back without letting go of him. “Peeling potatoes?”

“Yes. It’s a very important job, apparently.”

Charlie peeks under Dean’s arm, making him chuckle. “Well, yeah! We gotta have mashed potatoes! It’s a vital part of Christmas dinner.”

Dean grins and gives her a final squeeze before stepping back. “See, Cas? Very important.”

“If you say so, Dean.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Charlie asks, one arm still around Dean’s waist. He appreciates the contact- it’s solid. Reassuring.

“Well, you can help Cas peel potatoes,” Dean suggests. “But Jody, Donna, and I have the kitchen covered.”

“Jody and Donna! I have to go meet them,” she squeals and tugs at the hem of his shirt. “Come on! Let’s go!”

Dean grins and lets her pull him down the hall to the kitchen, where the two sheriffs are working to shape the last batch of rolls so they can be left to rise for a while.

“Guys, this is Charlie,” he says, catching their attention.

“Hi,” Donna says brightly. “I would hug you, but I’m covered in dough.”

“That okay!” Charlie finally lets go of Dean, walking over to lean on the counter.

“I’m Donna,” the blonde lady tells her. “This is my girlfriend, Jody.”

“Hi,” Jody says. “Dean’s told us a lot about you.”

The three settle into a steady conversation, which makes Dean smile. He loves knowing his friends get along well. He feels alright about leaving Charlie with the two older women and focusing on preparing the ham Sam asked them to make.

“Dean, I’m done with the potatoes,” Cas says, coming into the kitchen. “What would you like me to do with them?”

“Can you cut them up for me?” Dean asks, instinctively turning his head toward his boyfriend. He still does that- “look” at people, even though he can’t see whoever it is. “Into cube-ish shapes, no more than an inch across?”

“I can do that.” Dean hears the sound of the big bowl Cas put the peeled potatoes in hitting the countertop.

“I’ll help!” Charlie pipes up. “No point in not putting some perfectly good hands to use, right?”

“I would appreciate that,” Cas tells her.

A comfortable silence settles over the kitchen as everyone works on their respective tasks. With so many hands on deck, they actually proceed a bit ahead of schedule.

Dean can hear Eileen and Sam chatting in the library for a minute before they’re quiet. He knows she’s been teaching him sign language, so silence is probably to be expected. Although if little brother is getting lucky while everyone else is in the kitchen working, Dean might have to kick his ass.

By the time Claire and Alex arrive- fresh from a spa weekend that doesn’t sound like something Claire would like but apparently was her idea- the last rolls are cooling, the mash potatoes are being kept warm in a pot on the stove, and the ham is almost ready to come out of the oven. The turkey is out of the roaster and on a decorative plate Eileen brought- apparently it used to belong to her mother. Dean can’t see it, obviously, but he thinks it’s a nice touch. It’s only Dean, Donna, and Jody left in the kitchen.

“You guys are late,” Dean teases, wrapping his free arm around first Claire and then Alex.

“Better late than never,” Claire reminds him. “What can I do to help with dinner?”

“The two of you can help Sam and the others set the table.”

“Cool. I can fold the napkins pretty,” Alex says. “I’m probably a little out of practice, but I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“You can teach me,” Claire suggests, the pair already on the move.

“Things seems to be going well between them,” Dean points out when the girls are gone.

“Thankfully,” Jody replies. “It was difficult when they were fighting all the time. Now, though? You wouldn’t even know they didn’t grow up sisters. They still bicker, but they actually care for each other, so they always come back together.”

“Having a sibling you’re close to is the best,” Dean says honestly.

Donna laughs softly, nudging his arm with her shoulder. “You would know.”

* * *

Dinner turns out great. Dean was a tad worried that they’d left the turkey in too long, but it’s moist and flavorful. The rolls are fluffy, the potatoes are just the right balance of smooth and a little lumpy, the stuffing has a perfect blend of seasonings.

Finally having all of his friends around one table is kind of blowing Dean’s mind. He can hear Claire and Alex chatting with Charlie at one end of the long table they made by pushing two library tables together. Eileen and Jody are sharing hunting stories on the other end. Dean knows Sam and Eileen are holding hands on top of the table- they were holding them underneath until Cas calmly pointed out that they weren’t fooling anyone. Sam’s shocked sputtering made that worth it. Now Cas has turned away from Dean, listening intently to Donna recounting the story of her first hunt.

“She kicked vampire ass,” Dean interjects near the end, resulting in a shy “aw shucks” and a gentle shove from the blonde.

After dinner comes dessert in the form of the pies Dean and the ladies made. They play some of the games- Charlie brought a few of her own- and drink some beers- Alex holds her alcohol pretty well for someone underage, which Dean thinks probably isn’t a good thing. He decides not to mention it.

Now they’re just sitting around the table swapping stories. The dishes are clean and put away. The kitchen hopefully looks like it never saw a giant meal. All the presents have been brought in from the cars and neatly arranged under the tree- many thanks to Donna for that. Jody lit some candles she brought and now the air smells like apples and cinnamon.

Between talking and putting together the breakfast casserole- layers of hash browns, chopped bacon, and cheese with an egg mix poured over the top- they all go to bed far later than they probably should. Dean’s very tired by the time he crawls under the covers beside his boyfriend, though, and he has no trouble falling asleep.

* * *

Waking up to the smell of the breakfast casserole might just be Dean’s new favorite thing.

“Morning,” Sam says when Dean stumbles into the kitchen, still in his robe and pajamas. “Good thing we stocked up on coffee, huh?”

Dean grumbles an agreement, collapsing at the table and rubbing his eyes.

“Want me to pour you a mug?” Sam asks.

“Please?” Dean manages. “I know I’ll spill it right now.”

“I’ve got it!” Charlie says, popping up from her seat next to Sam and startling Dean a little- he’s not quite awake enough to notice another person in the room.

“Anyone else in here I don’t know about?” he says, pretending to be grouchy even as he happily accepts the warm mug Charlie passes him.

Sam laughs. “You must be tired if you haven’t noticed Eileen sitting next to you. Jody and Donna are in the shower, though, and Claire and Alex are still in their rooms.”

“Hi, Eileen,” Dean says, giving her a little salute. “Cas is up, but he has his little morning routine now so he’ll be a minute. I have a feeling we’ll be waiting a while for Jody and Donna.”

“Ew, Dean. I don’t need that thought.”

* * *

It does take a while to get everyone gathered together in the kitchen, but they’re not in a rush. Dean wants to wait until after breakfast to do gifts- less rush that way and he’ll be less inclined to eat any candy he may receive. The others agree with his plan and they push the library tables together again. The casserole turns out to be amazing- Dean’s definitely making this a Christmas tradition. Plus, there’s minimal clean-up once the leftovers are divided up and put away.

“Presents?” Cas suggests, body pressed to Dean’s back when he puts the last clean dish away.

“Presents sound good to me,” Dean agrees. “Everyone alright with that?”

There’s a chorus of agreements and the group make their way back into the library. Chairs are dragged from corners to surround the tree and for the first time in a while, Dean really wishes he could see. He knows Sam put lights and garlands along the tops of the shorter bookshelves and up the columns. Cas hung enough stockings for everyone from the tall bookshelf by the tree.

“Stockings first, I think,” Sam says, and Dean realizes the stockings weren’t just for fun. Someone actually filled them- probably one of the women.

A full stocking is placed in Dean’s hands where he’s sitting between Cas and Eileen. “Here comes the fun part,” he says lightly. “Where I try and guess what I’ve gotten just by touch.”

That gets a laugh out of everyone and Dean grins. They dig into their stockings. It’s all small gifts- candy canes and little foil wrapped chocolates on top, a gift card, a different little knickknack for everyone, a small Christmas tree ornament in the shape of a bird (everyone has a different one of these, too), and at the bottom, and apple and an orange.

“I like this,” Dean says, already playing with the little cube that came in his stocking. It has a different toy on each side and is quite entertaining to explore by touch.

“The stockings are Eileen’s doing,” Sam says honestly from the other side of the deaf hunter.

“Eileen, thank you,” Dean tells her, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. The others echo his gratitude.

“I think stockings are a Christmas morning stable,” Eileen explains. “I’m glad you guys like them so much.”

They move on to the other gifts, working through each person’s individual pile of presents for everyone else, starting with Charlie’s selections. Those who hadn’t met each other weren’t as specific with their gifts, though Dean knows Sam was texting with all of them giving ideas. Dean thought there would be a lot of gift cards going around, so he’s surprised to find a more creative present.

Jody is giggling over her’s and Donna’s matching police-uniform styled pajamas. Charlie went with a pajama theme, apparently, because Dean unwraps his own set of soft pants and corresponding shirt.

“I am not a moose,” Sam says indignantly, though there’s no heat in his tone.

Charlie snickers. “Um, have you seen you? Sorry, Sam, but you’re huge. Crowley has it right- Moose is an apt descriptor.”

“I like mine,” Cas says. “They’re very soft and look warm. I like the blue color and the bees are very cute.”

“What do mine look like?” Dean inquires. “Besides warm, because I can feel that.”

“They’re red and black plaid,” Cas tells him. “A bit like that shirt Sam wears, you know the one. And there are little cartoon squirrels.”

Dean sputters, torn between his own indignation and laughing. “Lovely,” he chuckles. “Thank you, Charlie.”

“You’re welcome!” she chirps.

Eileen’s presents are next. Dean’s not sure what everyone else got, but Eileen picked for him a keychain that reads out the time.

“Very useful,” he says, pushing the button and hearing the little voice recite “Ten-thirty.” “This will definitely come in handy. Thank you so much, Eileen.”

Claire and Alex teamed up to get gifts and Dean’s excited about the t-shirt they picked, which reads “I’m blind, not deaf.” Donna and Jody got him what the box calls sports headphones.

“The technology is all contained within the headphone,” Donna explains. “So the buttons are by touch regardless of whether you can see or not. There’s a lot of storage for you to put all your music.”

Sam got him a wall plaque that has the entire alphabet in Braille, which Dean has been struggling to learn. “Just something for you to refer back to whenever,” the younger Winchester says, seeming a little nervous.

“Makes practice easier,” Dean points out. “Thanks, Sam.”

Dean passes around his gifts next- some new movies for Jody, a nice gun cleaning kit for Donna, research books for Claire, nail polish for Alex (Claire’s suggestion) that have the teenager squealing in excitement, a board game for Charlie, a huge puzzle for Sam, and a nice watch for Cas. He has another gift for his boyfriend, but that’s for later.

Cas passes around his gifts. His gift for Dean is small, but Dean automatically loves it more than any of his other presents.

“Cas,” he says, feeling the carved symbols around the bracelet. “Did you make this.”

“Yeah,” Cas says quietly. “Each one is a protection symbol for something different, some different culture.”

“It’s amazing,” Dean murmurs, pulling his lover in for a fierce kiss. “Thank you so much.”

Once all the trash has been cleaned up, Charlie opens up her new game on one library table and Sam breaks out his puzzle on another.

Feeling far more satisfied than he has in a very, very long time, Dean leans his head against Cas’ shoulder and just lets it all soak in. He feels a firm hand on his thigh and covers it with his own. He’s never had a Christmas like this- not one he remembers, at least, though that one year when Sam celebrated just because Dean wanted to will forever be a fond memory. This, though. This will become a tradition. He just knows it.


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

Nervous is an understatement.

Dean’s pretty sure that if he stops to think about this too hard, he’s going to have a breakdown right here in the hallway, so he keeps tugging Cas’ hand, leading the way back to their bedroom.

He wants to do this- he really, really wants to do this. It’s just been so long and he feels like a virgin all over again, stomach twisted up in knots and hands shaking as he cradles Cas’ face.

“Dean,” Cas says softly when the door is locked behind them. “We don’t have to do anything at all.”

“I know,” Dean replies, voice just as quiet. “I want to do this. I do. I’m just… I’m really nervous.”

“I’ll take good care of you,” his lover promises, petting his cheek.

“I know. You always do.” Dean leans into Cas’, enjoying the proximity. “I want this.”

Dean can’t see Cas’ smile, but it’s warm and radiating and the feel of Dean’s words in Cas’ chest is all that he’ll ever need. “Alright. I’m going to kiss you now.”

Dean grins and yanks Cas in, smashing their mouths together. It’s like a wall coming down- all the pent-up desire and passion comes pouring out. Cas growls hungrily, dragging Dean over to the bed and pushing him down.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” Cas murmurs, breath warm across Dean’s face.

“Please,” Dean gasps, already rock hard in his jeans.

“Patience, Dean. We’re gonna take our time with this.”

Cas peels Dean’s clothes off one piece at a time, stopping to lav attention on whatever skin is revealed. The sound he makes when he pulls down Dean’s jeans makes the blind man’s cock jump in his panties.

“Fuck,” Cas breathes, hot on Dean’s hip bone. “Are these for me, sweetheart?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Such a good boy.” A fingertip strokes Dean’s cock through the soft lace, teasing over the tip. “Beautiful.”

“Cas,” Dean whines, digging his fingers into the comforter.

“Shhh I’ve got you, baby.”

Cas rubs Dean through the panties before tugging them down, allowing Dean’s cock to bob up a little. The sight makes his mouth water, so he dips down to mouth at Dean’s thick base, grinning at the sound Dean makes above him. Cas leaves a line of kitten licks along the underside before wrapping his mouth around the tip and sucking. Dean cries out, hands flying to Cas’ hair.

“Quiet,” Cas says, tone light and teasing. “We don’t want to bother anyone else.”

Dean bites his lip, nodding. “Gotta be quiet.”

“Can you do that?”

“No promises,” Dean says honestly, and it puts a smile on both of their faces.

Cas shifts lower on the bed, removing the panties completely and settling Dean’s knees over his shoulders. Dean flings an arm over his face, covering his mouth to muffle the sounds pulled from his chest by Cas’ perfect mouth. He whimpers when Cas suddenly pulls away.

“I’m just grabbing the lube,” Cas chuckles, stretching out beside the blind man. Dean hears the crack of the lid. “I want you on all fours, ass in the air.”

Dean scrambles to obey, bracing himself on his elbows. The weight of Cas’ eyes on him sears into his skin, makes his hips cant forward and down before big hands stroke down his spine.

“So good,” Cas coos. His fingers slide between Dean’s ass cheeks and find the base of the moderate sized plug Dean put in this morning while he was in the shower. “Fuck. You got yourself ready for me?”

Dean nods, arching his back further and pressing the side of his face into the mattress.

“Which one is this?”

“The… the medium one,” Dean stammers, fighting to get the words out when Cas nudges the toy right against his prostate.

“Impressive. You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You really want this.”

Dean whines, nodding and twisting his fingers into the comforter. “Please, Cas.”

“I’ve got you, Dean.” The plug it pulled part of the way out, stretching Dean open around the widest point before it’s pushed back in. Dean groans and pushes his ass up higher. “Mmm. Eager.”

“Please.”

“Easy,” Cas soothes, leaning to press a soft kiss to the base of Dean’s spine as he pulls the plug out entirely. Dean’s hole clenches around empty air a second before it’s filled with two thick fingers. “So tight, even after all day with that plug.” A third finger burns a little with the stretch and has Dean moaning. “Are you ready for me?”

“I’m ready,” Dean tells him, babbling a little. “I’m ready, ‘m ready, Cas, please-”

“Shhh,” Cas murmurs against the back of his shoulder. He presses down against Dean’s prostate, massaging until the blind man has to bite into the comforter to keep from screaming. “So good. I’m going to fuck you, Dean, but you can’t cum yet.”

Dean wants to cry at those words- he’s already dripping a little puddle of clear precum onto the bedding- but he just nods. He has his word and no one knows his body better than Cas. If he really needs to stop, Cas will stop.

Cas pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his cock. The first initial press is tricky- even though he’s been working hard to open himself up for this, Dean’s body isn’t used to that sort of intrusion anymore and he reflexively tenses a little.

“Hey,” Cas says softly, rubbing the small of Dean’s back. “Let me in, sweetheart.”

Dean forces himself to breathe deeply until he relaxes enough for the head to pop past the first ring of muscle. Just that is almost enough to send him over the edge, but he manages to get a hand down to grip the base of his cock and hold off, at least for a little longer.

Cas works his way deeper with little rolls of his hips, working Dean open with the patience of a saint and an endless stream of praise. When his hips finally meet Dean’s ass, Dean allows himself to slump down on the bed. Cas laughs quietly.

“Feel good?” he asks, molding his body to Dean’s back.

“Mmm,” is all Dean can say, which would be humiliating if he wasn’t so busy relishing in the feeling of being full of his lover for the first time in almost six months.

“You take me so well,” Cas tells him, carefully rolling his hips to nudge right against Dean’s sweet spot. “Even after all this time.”

“Sorry I made you wait,” Dean whispers.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas sighs. “You have nothing to be sorry for, understand? You needed to wait and that’s perfectly alright. It just makes this that much more special.” Hands stroke down Dean’s sides to settle on his hips. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“You’ll always take care of me,” Dean says, echoing Cas’ words from earlier.

The little laugh vibrates through Dean’s back and makes him whine. “I will. Remember that.”

“I will, but just… please move.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Cas starts things off slow- he always likes to. He gets himself into a steady rhythm, perfect strokes that aren’t that deep, but still brush Dean’s prostate just right with every other stroke. Dean digs his teeth into the comforter again, muffling the sounds Cas is punching out of his chest.

“Feel amazing,” Cas sighs, body molded to Dean’s even as he moves. “But I want to see your face. Can you roll over for me?”

Dean nods and Cas pulls out, sitting back to give Dean to get on his back. Cas puts a pillow under his hips, lifting them up at a better angle and supporting them so it’s not so harsh on his back. Cas blankets Dean’s body with his own, gently pushing inside him again. Dean sighs and lets his head fall back, leaving his throat bared for Cas’ teeth. His boyfriend doesn’t hesitate to mark him up a little- Cas has a bit of a possessive side, always has, and Dean loves it. He enjoys going about his day knowing everyone can see he’s taken.

“You’re so beautiful.” Cas’ tone is gentle, matching the way his body moves against Dean’s. “How did I get so lucky?”

Dean brings his hand up to hold Cas’ face, pressing their foreheads together. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Cas chuckles and kisses him. That’s all they need to get things going again and once they start digging into one another, things build quickly. Dean is struggling to keep the noise down.

“Do you need me to cover your mouth?” Cas asks, words a little muffled against Dean’s jaw.

“Maybe,” Dean gasps, fingers digging into Cas’ shoulders.

“Yes or no, Dean.” The words are punctuated by a particularly brutal thrust that has Dean crying out, much louder than he should be.

“Yes,” he whispers, covering his mouth himself and turning his face away to hide his blush.

Cas’ laugh makes Dean smile, though, and he returns his arms to around his boyfriend’s shoulders. A strong hand covers Dean’s mouth, careful to leave his nose uncovered so he can breathe.

“Ready, sweetheart?”

“Mm-hmm.”

That’s all the warning gets before Cas sits up, hand still on Dean’s mouth. His free hand hitches Dean’s leg high on his hip before bracing against the blind man’s thigh. The position allows him to really drive into Dean, each thrust dancing the line between too hard and not hard enough. Dean’s pretty sure he’s going to have bruises beyond the hickeys Cas definitely left on his neck, but he doesn’t care. He’s going to be walking funny in the morning, and with the white hot pleasure zapping up his spine and settling in his gut, he decides doesn’t care about that, either.

Dean knows when Cas gets close- he can feel it in the stutter of his boyfriend’s hips and hear it in the low noises Cas is making. Part of Dean wishes he could see the expression on Cas’ face when his body jerks and he leans in closer to Dean’s face, but the feeling of Cas spilling inside him is so much more intense than it’s ever been.

“So good for me,” Cas sighs, nuzzling under Dean’s jaw as he shivers through his aftershocks. “Do you want to cum?”

Dean nods, trying to hide his sudden desperation. He was so caught up in enjoying being intimate with Cas again, he completely forgot about his own pleasure and how rock hard his cock is. He’s pretty sure the head is probably going to turn purple soon, if it hasn’t already, and now that he’s aware of it, the need is almost overwhelming.

“How do you ask?” Cas prompts, carefully pulling out. Dean whimpers at the feeling of Cas’ cum leaking out of him.

“Please may I cum?” he asks, somehow remembering the proper grammar Cas likes to insist on just to be an ass when Dean’s too turned on to focus properly.

“Good boy. Yes, you may.”

With that, Cas plunges two fingers into his hole and wraps his free hand around Dean’s erection. A few strokes and well-timed rubs against Dean’s prostate have him spilling all over the place with a shout that Sam probably heard. He knows he made a huge mess, but he’s too blissed out to care too much. Luckily, Cas cares for him, leaving the bed and returning quickly with a wet washcloth.

“You were so good for me tonight,” Cas praises, gently cleaning Dean up before cleaning himself. “So perfect. I know this was a big step for you and I’m so proud.”

Dean hums softly, obediently rolling when Cas prompts him to so his boyfriend can remove the sweaty comforter and pillow.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, sweetheart. I want you to drink some water for me and then go to the bathroom”

Dean pouts but lets himself be sat up so he can drink from the glass Cas holds to his lips. Only when he’s a little steadier on his feet does he dare to get up, pulling on a robe and following Cas to the bathroom. They both pee and clean up a little more. Dean tries to skip flossing after he brushes his teeth- he’s really fucking tired- but Cas scolds him like it’s not his fault Dean’s literally falling asleep standing up.

“Now to bed,” Cas says, looping his arm around Dean’s waist as they return to their room. Dean’s already sore and limping a little bit. It’s the best feeling.

“Okay,” he agrees, allowing himself to be stripped and tucked into bed. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

The bunker feels a little empty once everyone leaves after New Years. Dean kinda misses the company, but the quiet is definitely nice. Sam and Cas find another hunt less than a week later and Dean insists on coming with them.

“You can come with us,” Cas says, “on one condition.”

“Yeah?”

“You have to let me take you to a really nice restaurant when we get home.”

“Deal,” Dean says without hesitation.

“And let me take good care of you when you get home?”

Dean knows Cas has a smirk on his lips. His boyfriend has ideas- ideas Dean has a feeling he’s going to like a lot.

“Deal,” he repeats.

* * *

This drive is not nearly as long as the last hunt Dean went on, which is good because there’s only so much doing nothing Dean can handle. Cas reads off what they know so far while Sam drives.

“Sounds like a ghost,” Dean says when Cas finished with one of the witness statements. “What do you think, Sam?”

“Ghost is probably a safe assumption,” Sam agrees. “Though we should consider other options. When was the last time we just had a simple salt and burn?”

“Way you’re talking, you’re gonna jinx us,” Dean scolds.

Sam chuckles. “Knock on wood, then.”

Dean calmly reaches over and raps his knuckles lightly against his brother’s skull, prompting an indignant squawk from Sam and laughter from Cas, and things feel a lot more normal than they have in a very long time.

* * *

The motel room smells better than the last one Dean was in, which he’s grateful for. He has a feeling Sam chose a place a little nicer than their usual type simply for Dean’s sake.

“Do you want anything specific for dinner?” Cas inquires, setting their duffels at the end of their bed.

“Burger,” Dean says.

“There’s a diner down the street. We can eat dinner there,” Sam suggests. “And then go to the station in the morning. It’s a little late by this point.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The weather is nice, if cold, and the diner isn’t far so they decide to walk. Dean loops his arm through Cas’ and lets himself enjoy the walk. There’s snow- he can smell it, which isn’t something he ever thought he would be able to do- and the air is crisp. Perfect for a small stroll.

_Damn. I’m starting to sound like an old person._

The diner is moderately crowded. Sam snags them a booth in a quieter corner and the waitress- Lily- gets them their menus and drinks.

“They have a chili burger,” Cas says, body warm and solid beside Dean in the booth.

“That sounds really good and really messy.”

“You’re a fairly neat eater, particularly for someone who cannot see his food.”

“Yeah, well, chili burgers are messy regardless of whether or not you can see.”

“True. I’m going to get one. You can try it if you would like to. Do you know what you will order?”

“Bacon burger sounds good right now,” Dean says, leaning into his boyfriend. “Is there anything like that on the menu?”

“There is a bacon cheeseburger,” Cas tells him. “With fries on the side?”

“Yes, please.”

Despite how busy the diner is, the food arrives quickly and is fresh. Dean happily digs into his meal- it’s been a very long time since he ate something he didn’t cook himself. He eats the entire huge serving and steals a little of Cas’ fries, too, and almost immediately regrets it.

“Not used to eating that much,” he grumbles, rubbing his stomach.

“Yeah, that probably wasn’t a good idea,” Sam points out.

“Screw you.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Dean kicks his brother under the table.

* * *

By the time they get back to the room, Dean’s in a bit of trouble. He’s apparently not used to the greasiness of diner food anymore because he’s in pain.

“Sounds like heartburn,” Sam says when Dean explains how he’s feeling.

“I’m too young for heartburn,” Dean whines. He’s sitting against the headboard of his bed, mostly just being miserable.

“You’re never too young for heartburn. You’ve been eating really well lately, Dean. Your body got used to a certain standard of food and you just threw that all off in a single meal.”

“Why didn’t you warn me?”

Sam chuckles. “Because you’re a grown man who should know these things already.”

Dean groans and throws the TV remote in the general direction of his brother.

* * *

Dean doesn’t sleep very well most of the night, though his stomach does calm down more around one or two in the morning, allowing him to finally get some sleep. He’s woken way too soon by Cas pressing soft kisses to his cheek.

“We’re going now,” Cas murmurs. “Would you like to lay down?”

Dean groans, but allows himself to be guided to lie down on the bed. His back thanks him almost immediately and he can’t help a sigh of relief.

“Does your back hurt?” Cas asks, gently petting Dean’s hair.

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to put more thought into what you’re eating in the future, so you don’t have to spend another night sitting up.”

Dean bats Cas’ hand away. “Go be a badass hunter and let me sleep.”

Cas chuckles and kisses his forehead. “We’ll be back later. Stay safe, sweetheart.”

Dean nods and hides his face in the pillow. He’s asleep again before the motel door closes behind them.

* * *

When Sam and Cas return to the room after lunch, they find Dean still in bed. The blind man isn’t asleep, but he’s definitely not awake.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says softly, sitting by his boyfriend and holding the bag of food in front of his face. He got Dean a simple chicken sandwich from a nice little deli near the police station. He had the sandwich himself, so he knows it’s delicious, and hopefully, the grilled chicken will be gentler on Dean’s stomach. “Are you hungry?”

“Wha’s that?” Dean mumbles, sleepy, unseeing green eyes blinking up at Cas.

“A chicken sandwich. I can put it in the fridge for later if you want.”

Dean shakes his head, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “No, I’m hungry now. Thank you.”

He sits ups and happily accepts the sandwich. Around bites, he asks about the progress they made that morning.

“It’s definitely looking more and more like a ghost,” Sam says, sitting heavily on his bed. “My money’s on the dead wife at the point.”

“Dead wife is usually a safe bet,” Dean agrees around a mouthful of food.

Cas taps his chin lightly. “Chew and swallow. Then speak.”

Dean makes a face but obeys. “Are there other options?”

“Not so far. The wife is kinda all we’ve got.”

“Then it’s probably the wife.”

“Probably. We’ll go to the grave tonight.”

* * *

Things are never that simple, of course, and part of Dean doesn’t seem at all surprised when Sam and Cas return to the room late that night more beat up than usual when salting and burning bones.

“Fucking ghouls,” Sam growls, stomping across the room.

“Good thing you guys packed regular rounds and not just salt,” Dean says, trying to lighten things up a little. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yes, can you relocate Sam’s shoulder?” Cas asks, already cleaning and bandaging a series of scratches on his forearm.

“On it. C’mere, Sammy.”

“I can do it myself, Dean.”

“Get your sorry ass over here right now.”

Cas rolls his eyes when Sam pouts like the petulant little brother he is and yet still crosses the room to let Dean pop his shoulder back into its socket.

“Fuck,” Sam says through gritted teeth, already reaching for the painkillers. “That hurts.”

“Yeah, yeah, ya big baby,” Dean teases, gently shoving his brother. “Go take your pills and showers. You reek. Both of you do.”

“You’re just sensitive.”

“Yeah, I am. Please shower.”

Sam goes without a fight.

“Anything I can do, Cas?” Dean asks, turning to the other man.

Cas shakes his head, forgetting for a moment that Dean can’t see it. “No, I’ve got everything under control. Just some scratches and bruises. Nothing major.”

“Alright. It’s your turn in the shower next.”

“Only if you’ll join me.”

Dean chuckles, but nods. “Fine. It’s a deal.”


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

Dean completely forgets about his promise to Cas until almost a week later, when Cas mentions that he made reservations for them at a more upscale restaurant in town. **  
**

“Will my Fed suit work?” Dean asks, more than a little nervous. He always feels out of place at these sorts of establishments and he doesn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb.

“That will work perfectly,” Cas assures him. “Our reservation is for six, so we should leave around five to account for any traffic, correct?”

“Yeah, five should be safe.”

* * *

Five finds the Impala pulling out of the garage. Dean’s palms are sweating, but he’s trying to hide how nervous he is. If Cas can tell, he doesn’t say anything, which Dean definitely appreciates.

Both men are dressed in their best suits. Sam helped Dean do his tie, so at least he knows that it looks decent.

“This restaurant is nicer,” Cas tells him, “but it’s not out of our price range and the menu does not have anything bizarre on it. I made sure to check.”

Dean nods, rubbing his palms against his thighs. “Thanks, Cas.”

“Our table is more secluded, so we will not be bothered and we can have a quieter dining experience.” Cas always seems to know exactly what Dean’s worried about.

A little bit of tension leaves Dean’s body. “Thanks, Cas. I really appreciate that.”

Cas reaches over and weaves their fingers together.

* * *

The moment Dean enters the restaurant, he’s hit with a wave of smells, all of them very pleasant. He can hear other patrons chatting, but the atmosphere is a quiet one that only gets quieter when the hostess leads them toward the back.

“Kelsey will be your server,” she tells them. “She’ll be along in a moment. Is there anything I can get you in the meantime?”

“No, thank you,” Cas says politely, taking his seat across from Dean. The hostess leaves and Cas opens the menu she gave him. “Is there something specific you’re in the mood for?” he asks, nudging Dean’s foot with his own under the table.

“Pasta sounds nice,” Dean replies. “Or whatever that smell is.”

“That’s probably our spaghetti and meatballs you’re smelling,” a friendly female voice says from by their table, startling Dean. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m Kelsey. I’ll be your server for tonight. Can you start you gentlemen off with some drinks?”

“Water for me,” Cas says. “I’m driving. If you want something a little stronger, Dean, there are some lovely wines on this menu.”

Dean shakes his head. He has a feeling Cas has big plans for when they get home tonight and he wants to have a clear head. “I’ll just have water.”

The foot nudges against his ankle, signaling Cas’ approval of his choice.

“Alright, two waters. Any there appetizers catching your eye?”

“I don’t think so. Dean? Would you like an appetizer?”

“No, thank you. Don’t want to spoil my appetite.”

“Good point,” Kelsey says. “I’ll bring you those waters and give you a minute to look at the menu.”

Dean hears her footsteps retreat. “I think I want the spaghetti,” he says honestly. “It smells amazing.”

“Of course,” Cas replies. “And I think I will have the steak.”

“I might steal a bite or two of that.”

“Only if I can steal some of yours.”

“Deal.”

Kelsey comes back with their waters and they order their meals. Dean’s feeling much better about this whole thing. The restaurant is quiet and not crowded, which is great. Their waitress is polite and doesn’t seem at all thrown off by Dean. Cas’ foot is solid against Dean’s ankle under the table and his hand covers Dean’ on top of the table.

“I like this,” Dean admits. “It’s really nice.”

“I’m glad. We should do things like this more often. I like taking you nice places.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to, Dean. You deserve to be taken to nice restaurants and given nice gifts and treated properly. Understand?”

Dean can feel the heat in his cheeks and he ducks his head. “Cas-”

“You do, Dean. Let me show you?”

“Okay,” Dean says quietly, turning his hand to wrap it around Cas’.

Their food arrives pretty quickly, which is another point in this restaurant’s favor. Dean decides to cut up his pasta, to hopefully minimize potential mess, and puts a napkin over his lap. He’s gotten good at eating without making a mess- especially compared to how messy of an eater he was when he first lost his sight- but accidents do happen.

The food is amazing. Cas’ steak is perfectly cooked and seasoned. Dean even tries a little bit of the roasted vegetables his boyfriend got as a side- cooking regularly has opened him up more to the world of veggies; while he still teases Sam for liking them so much, he has to admit that they aren’t half bad when prepared the right way. Dean definitely prefers his pasta, over the vegetables, though. The sauce has a great balance of garlic, the meatballs are soft and flavorful, and the noodles themselves are cooked just right. There are breadsticks on the side and Dean has a sudden need to learn how to make his own breadsticks because they’re the definition of perfection.

They take their time eating, letting the conversation flow smoothly as it usually does between them. It’s been awhile since they’ve really sat down and talked, between hunting and having friends visiting. Dean feels like the focus has mostly been on him lately, which makes sense because something as big as losing his sight has a big effect on all of them, but he doesn’t want to be the center of attention all the time.

Once the bill is paid, Cas leads the way back to the car.

“When we get home, I have some plans,” Cas tells him, reaching his hand over to rest it on Dean’s thigh. “I want you to go to our room, strip, and lay on your back on the bed. Understand?”

A shiver runs up Dean’s spine. “Yes, sir,” he says through the lump in his throat.

Cas gives Dean’s thigh a squeeze. “You’re okay with this?”

Dean shifts Cas’ hand up to rest against his crotch, where he’ll definitely be able to feel Dean’s quickly growing erection. “Very.”

“Alright.” Cas rubs gently, touch just firm enough to be felt and light enough to tease. “Are you going to be a good boy for me tonight?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. We’re having such a lovely evening. I would hate to have to spoil it with a punishment.”


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

Dean is trembling with excitement when they enter the garage. He grabs his cane from its spot under the seat- he brought it for the restaurant, but didn’t end up using it- and hurries to their bedroom. He quickly strips off his clothes, slowing down only to neatly hang his suit up and put his boxers in the hamper. He strips the covers off the bed, leaving just the fitted sheet, and practically throws himself down on the mattress.

* * *

Cas takes his time getting from the garage to the bedroom. He stops to talk with Sam in the library, thanking him for the restaurant recommendation. He goes to the bathroom, and then to his personal room, which he keeps for when he needs some alone time. He loves Dean, but they do occasionally need a break from each other, so they keep their separate rooms ready for whenever that happens. They haven’t slept apart in longer than Cas can remember, with exception to when one of them was missing or dead, but Cas still comes here sometimes for some quiet. He also stores things he doesn’t want Dean to see here- things like the box he’s currently pulling out of his dresser drawer.

He really hopes Dean likes this.

Dean is exactly where Cas told him to be- on his back in the center of their bed. He got rid of the covers, which are folded a little haphazardly on top of their dresser, which was probably a good idea. Dean’s cock is fully erect now, a gorgeous curve against his belly, leaning a little to the left.

Cas closes and locks the door, seeing Dean lick his lips at the sound. “Good boy,” Cas tells him, crossing the room to stand beside the bed. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes sir,” Dean says, voice already softer than usual. Even though it’s been a long time since they’ve done a scene like this, Dean falls easily into his role.

Cas runs his fingertips over Dean’s chest, barely brushing his nipples. They perk up at the contact, though, and he smirks.

“Always so responsive,” he says. He climbs up onto the bed, kneeling by Dean’s head. “I have a new toy for us, pet. Would you like to know what it is?”

Dean shakes his head. “I trust you. Surprise me.”

“Alright. You asked for it.” Cas tweaks first one nipple and then the other. “I’m going to tie you up now.”

Dean lies still while Cas works, allowing his body to be folding into the position Cas wants. When Cas finished, Dean’s arms are above his head, folded at the elbows so his head is cradled by his bound wrists. The ropes loop around his biceps and face, forming a makeshift gag so they don’t bother Sam. His knees are drawn up, spread wide to leave him completely exposed to whatever Cas wants to do. A small button is in Dean’s hand, serving as a safeword. If he pushes it, it will buzz loudly to get Cas’ attention.

Cas strokes Dean’s thighs, taking in the sight before him. Dean is always beautiful, but he looks especially good like this, all trussed up for Cas to play with.

“So lovely,” Cas murmurs, letting his hands drift to pet the soft skin where thigh meets groin. Dean twitches but stays quiet. “I’m going to get you ready for our new toy.”

He gets the lube and a few toys in slowly increasing sizes, so he can take his time making sure Dean is thoroughly prepared. He spreads lube over the smallest toy, no bigger than his finger, and presses it to Dean’s hole. It slides in easily and Dean sighs, body loose and relaxed in his bonds. Cas fucks him with the toy until he can replace it with the next size up. He’s glad they invested in these slowly-progressing toys back at the beginning of their relationship because they tend to come in handy.

Dean is a whimpering mess by the time they get to the largest toy, almost a half hour later. His body is covered in a layer of sweat. His biceps bulge intermittently as he pulls on the ropes binding his wrists. The muscles of his thighs are quivering. His cock is a deep red color and leaking profusely onto his belly. He groans when Cas pushes the toy in deep and leaves it there, sitting back on his heels.

“You look amazing like this,” Cas says. “Are you ready for our new toy?”

“Uh-huh,” Dean mumbles around the ropes between his teeth.

Cas takes the toy out of the soft bag he put it in to keep it safe. The toy is a “[sheath](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fbad-dragon.com%2Fproducts%2Fcrackerssheath&t=MjMyODZlNzBlOWM4ZTdjNmUzMTk2MDE4Y2ZkMWIzMTlkZmFmOWFkZiw5ZTNhOGFkN2Q2NWVmNGM2OGYwMjc5YjBhNWJiOTQ1MDgwNTljM2Q4),” according to the website. It covers his erection, with a band that goes around his balls to keep in it place, and adds both width and texture to his cock. The tip is open, allowing his head to experience the full sensations that come with pressing into Dean.

Dean’s brow furrows- it feels like just Cas’ cock at first- but the moment the silicone touches his rim, his eyes go wide and he grunts in confusion. The material is not hard; it’s actually fairly flexible, allowing it to move with Cas’ body and be not quite so rough on Dean. When the first row of bumps pushes past the tight ring of muscle, Dean gasps and arches his back. He doesn’t safeword, though, so Cas keeps going.

It takes a long time to work the toy into Dean. Lots of patience and soothing words and hands rubbing his lower belly. Cas keeps the lube by his knee so he doesn’t have to go far when he needs to add more. By the time the toy vanishes completely inside of Dean, the blind man is a whimpering mess on the bed. There’s a clear puddle forming on his abdomen, leaking from the deep red head of his cock.

“Stunning,” Cas murmurs, cradling Dean’s knees in his hands. His thumbs rub gentle circles. “I wish you could see what you look like- all strung out and desperate on my cock.” an idea occurs to him and he pets Dean’s shin. “Hold still, sweetheart.”

He shifts up on his knees and stretches over to grab his phone off his nightstand. Dean grunts softly when the movement shifts the toy inside him..

“Is it okay if I take pictures?” Cas asks, settling back and holding up the phone, already switching to the camera.

Dean nods.

“Thank you, Dean.”

Cas takes a lot of pictures- pictures of Dean’s face and his whole body, all trussed up for Cas’ viewing pleasure. Pictures of his leaking cock and his hole, stretched wide around Cas’ cock and the sheath. Cas moves carefully, rolling his hips to see the way the sheath distorts Dean’s rim with every thrust. He takes a short video capturing that and knows he has enough, as Dean calls it, “jerk off material” to last him several months.

“So good for me,” Cas praises, setting his hips aside and moving his hips a little faster. He has to be careful not to hurt Dean, which is difficult with all of his pleasured focused into the head of his cock. “Taking me so well. You feel amazing. So tight and hot. You look even better. Absolutely beautiful.”

Dean’s cheeks are flushed with a mix of arousal and minor embarrassment. He loves when Cas praises him like this, though he has a difficult time reconciling it in his head even after all these years. He doesn’t feel like he deserves it. Cas doesn’t mind working hard to persuade him that he does.

“Beautiful,” Cas whispers, leaning down to run his lips over Dean’s jaw. “I love you, Dean.”

His lover whines, pushing his hips up against the cock in his ass, and Cas chuckles. He braces himself with his elbows on either side of Dean’s torso and thrusts.

The sound he punches from Dean’s chest loops straight back to his cock. He growls and does it again. Now that he knows what Dean can take, he sets a steady rhythm and reaches down to wrap a hand around Dean’s erection. The skin is hot and silky under his palm.

If he wasn’t gagged, Dean would be a babbling mess. He is already trying really hard to be, regardless of the rope between his teeth. Cas smirks and sits up, bringing his unoccupied hand up to cup Dean’s cheek. He traces the rope with his thumb.

“Do you want to cum?” he asks, smiling at the frantic nodding he gets in response. “Alright. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

Dean obeys with a wail that is only slightly muffled by the gag and Cas hopes Sam didn’t hear it- the concrete walls block a lot of sounds, but that hasn’t stopped Dean before. Cas’ attention quickly refocuses on his lover, though. Dean is shaking on the bed, body clenching tight around Cas’ cock. Each ripple of his inner muscles results in another jerk of his cock and another full-body spasm. It takes a long time for the aftershocks to fade away and Dean’s body to go loose on the bed. Cas only lasts a little longer, which Dean’s probably grateful for, before he’s shaking apart above his lover. The silicone keeps the sensations focused into the head of his cock and makes the orgasm that much more intense.

When his hands are steady enough, Cas carefully pulls out and removes the sheath. His cum trickles from Dean’s ruined hole and the sight is enough to make his cock twitch in a valiant effort to become aroused once more. He decides to focus on the task of untying Dean, thoroughly massaging muscles that have been held in one position for just a little too long. Dean sighs when the gag is finally removed, flexing his jaw and licking his dry lips.

When he’s untied and settled, Cas fills a glass of water at the sink by his door and makes him drink some of it. Then they go to the bathroom to clean up and brush their teeth before returning to their room. Dean barely gives Cas time to change the sheets before he sheds his robe and sinks onto the mattress once more.

“Talk to me,” Cas says quietly, stretching out beside his boyfriend.

“That was amazing,” Dean tells him, looping his arm around Cas’ waist and laying his head on the man’s bare chest. “I don’t know where you got that toy, but you should get some more of them.”

Cas laughs softly and kisses the top of Dean’s head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only four more parts after this one! I can't believe it's almost over already!


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

Dean doesn’t have to miss his friends for long, because Cas decides he wants to throw a huge party for Dean’s birthday. Dean’s never really celebrated his birthday- not since he was little- and there have been some years when he’s missed it entirely. Use to be he would drag Sam to a restaurant and get a free dessert of some kind, or free drinks at a bar. That’s mostly stopped since he and Cas started dating- he prefers to spend the night in with his boyfriend, probably having sex of some kind. In short, a party is not Dean’s scene.

“Cas, you don’t have to do all this,” he insists for what must be the hundredth time. He’s lying upside down on the bed, socked feet up on the headboard. Cas is seated at their shared desk, making a long to-do list.

“I want to,” Cas replies, also for what must be the hundredth time.

“I know, but you don’t have to.”

Cas sighs heavily and twists in his chair- Dean can hear the squeak of the wood. “Dean. I want to do this for you. If you would like me to stop, I can do that. I don’t mind. We can have a quiet night in like we usually do.”

Dean thinks about that for a moment. He loves their quiet nights in- he really does. But the last time he had a party, he was too little to really remember anything beyond cake and lots of people and brightly colored balloons, and he wants that. He wants that really bad.

“No,” Dean says quietly. “You can do it if you want.”

Cas reaches over and takes Dean’s hand. “Good, because I do want to. I want to give you all the things you’ve never had, Dean, because you deserve them and I’m going to make sure you know it.”

Dean blushes and turns his face away, but he doesn’t let go of Cas’ hand.

* * *

Cas has it all planned out.

Sam helps him put streamers and balloons in the library- they’re able to start on this a few days before the party because Dean can’t see the giant “Happy Birthday” banner spanning the library or the streamers wrapped around the pillars.

Cas tries to make a cake on his own, using a box he had Sam pick up, but it turns out so bad that Dean insists on making the cake, even though it’s for his birthday. Sam decorates it, leaving Cas to make sure that all of the snack foods they got are ready and properly arranged on a library table.

Jody arrives the night before. She fixes Sam’s cake decorating, takes over making food for everyone else, and literally kicks Dean out of the kitchen with laughter on her lips at the way the blind man gropes her foot against his ass with one hand, his other in front of him to make sure he doesn’t run into anything, and takes over making food for everyone else. It’s not going to be a huge event- just the people who came for Christmas- but Cas is excited to be able to celebrate Dean’s birthday properly.

Donna gets there the next morning, bringing Claire and Alex with her. Charlie and Eileen are the last to arrive, just before lunch. Charlie comes bearing the complete box set of Doctor Sexy, much to Sam’s amusement. Dean goes red, but he clearly appreciates the gift and Cas has a feeling he’s going to get caught up on the show very soon. Charlie didn’t need to bring a present, though.

Cas has actually been planning this for months and all of their friends have pitched in on the present. He had wanted the gift to be ready by Christmas, but that was unfortunately impossible. Dean’s birthday works fine, though. In fact, the timing is almost better.

They have burgers and oven baked fries, and then cake and ice cream. Pretty much everyone got Dean a little present- most of it candy- just so he has some things to unwrap. When it comes time for the main present, Cas’ stomach is in knots.

“Dean, we, as a group, got together to get you this gift,” Cas tells him, holding his lover’s hand tight. “But if you don’t want it, it’s not too late to return everything. Someone else can use it.”

Dean’s brow is furrowed, but he’s smiling. “Where is it, Cas?”

“Not here yet. It won’t be ready for another few weeks, because you’re needed for the last bit, but we have all the supplies.”

“Cas, stop beating around the bush and tell me what it is.” Dean’s tone is light, teasing. His thumb rubs gently over Cas’ knuckles.

Jody brings out the big box and Dean rips off the paper with the exuberance of a child at Christmas. The first item he pulls off the top is a squeaky toy in the shape of a bone. Dean frowns, but more in confusion than anything else, turning the item over in his hands.

“Cas, you got me a dog?”

“Not just any dog,” Cas specifies. “A seeing-eye dog.”

He can see Dean processing, understanding those words and what that means for him. “Oh,” he says softly, seemingly unaware of the fact that everyone is watching him, waiting for his response.

Cas bites his lip, forcing himself to hang onto Dean’s hand. He really wants this for Dean- it would help him be more independent, help Sam and Cas to not worry so much about him. He also thinks that a dog, in general, would be really good for Dean. It would give him something that depends on him and give him some more purpose.

“Okay,” Dean says finally. “I’ll give it a try.”

* * *

Cas is practically bouncing in the backseat of the Impala. He’s like a child and Dean can’t help a small smile despite his reservations about this whole thing. Their lifestyle, despite recent changes, doesn’t really lend itself to pets, and while he knows a seeing-eye dog isn’t really a pet, it’s still another mouth to feed and another life to worry about.

“Is this it?” Sam asks, pulling the car over to the curb where the GPS has told him to stop.

“Yes,” Cas replies, already opening his door. “Come on, Dean! I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

Her. It would be nice to have a female touch around the bunker, even if said female is a dog.

He allows himself to be dragged from the car and up to the front door of the business. The porch steps squeak a little under his feet. His heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of his chest and his stomach is twisted in knots. He’s pretty sure the last time he felt this nervous was Christmas.

Dean’s expecting to hear a dog barking when Cas knocks on the door. Instead, all he hears is the sounds of someone coming to answer the door and Sam coming up the steps behind him. The door opens and Dean has to remind himself to breathe.

“Castiel!” a bright female voice says. The way she greets him gives Dean the distinct feeling that this is far from the first time Cas has been here. “You’re right on time. This must be Sam and Dean”

“Hi,” Dean says softly, feeling very unsure.

“I’m Amanda, the trainer. Come on, come in.”

They’re ushered into the house. Dean feels hardwood floors under his feet and smells pine needles. Judging by how strong the smell is, it’s probably a candle or a wax melt. He holds on tighter to Cas’ hand.

“She’s just down here. Lizzy was running through some commands with her. Dean, how long has it been since you lost your sight?” She asks, and unlike others, it’s not intrusive when she does.

He clears his throat, “Uhh, about… seven months? I haven’t really been keeping track.”

“Not too long, then. You seem pretty well adjusted compared to a lot of clients we work with. So a seeing-eye dog was just a natural progression?”

Dean shrugs shyly. “Nah, it’s a birthday surprise, actually.”

“How are you feeling about it?” Amanda seems a little concerned, but she’s doing her best to keep it out of her tone.

“I’m nervous but excited,” Dean admits. “I think… I think it could be really good for me, but I’m also scared that things won’t work out.”

“You’ll be fine,” she assures him. “Want to come meet your dog?”

He nods, hoping he’s not coming across as too eager.

“Excellent. Right this way.”

They’re led down a hallway and into another room, where Dean can very clearly hear the sounds of an animal. The dog is calm, thankfully, and busy listening to another woman, who’s giving her instructions.

“Hi, Cas,” the new woman, Lizzy, says. “How are you today?”

“I’m well,” Cas replies. “Lizzy, this is my boyfriend, Dean, and his brother, Sam. Sam, Dean, this is Lizzy, Amanda’s daughter. And this,” he leads Dean over to hold out his hand toward the dog, “this is Lady.”

Dean swallows hard, feeling a cool, wet nose nudging along his fingers before a slightly rough tongue licks his palm.

“You can pet her,” Lizzy says. “She’s very calm and friendly. Perfect for this job.”

Dean lets his hand be set on the dog’s head. She has very short fur, which he can imagine will make her easier to care for when it comes to grooming, and floppy ears. Her skull is rock solid and broad;  he can already tell that she’s a very heavy set dog- not in a “fat” way, but simply in the way she’s built. He crouches down to her level and scratches down her neck and shoulders, taking in her broad chest and the powerful muscles coiled beneath her short coat.

“She’s beautiful,” Sam says behind Dean, a smile evident in his voice. The dog wiggles a little under Dean’s hands as he feels her out and he can only assume she’s wagging her tail at Sam’s comment.

“What kind of dog is she?” Dean asks, unable to identify it for himself.

“She’s a pit bull,” Amanda tells him, “which will probably get some weird looks and the occasional not so nice comment, given their reputation. They’re not the typical breed used as guide dogs, but they’re very intelligent, incredibly loyal, strong, sweet, dutiful…all the things you want from a guide dog and more, and Lady was born for this role. She’s one of the best dogs I’ve ever trained… and I’ve trained a lot of dogs.”

Dean doesn’t know much about pit bulls, except that they’re unfairly discriminated against. Sam likes to talk about dog breeds and Dean has sat through a few rants about how pit bulls are treated. He finds himself looking forward to learning more about them just so he can treat Lady right.

Speaking of.

“Hi, Lady,” Dean says quietly, voice a little shaky as he pushes past a sudden wave of emotion he wasn’t expecting. She makes a tiny whining sound, nuzzling closer to his hands, and he can hear her tail thumping against the floorboards as he scratches behind her ears. Dogs have never really been his thing- he personally prefers cats, despite the fact that they make him sneeze and his eyes water. But he knows, despite all his reservations, that this is right. This is going to be special. “I’m Dean. We’re gonna be friends, right?”

She sniffs his face and then licks his cheek. Dean can’t help but smile.

“Yeah,” he says. “We’re gonna be friends.”

* * *

Lady is actually done with her training, but now it’s Dean’s turn. They spend several hours going over the commands Lady knows. She shows him up easily and Dean quickly starts to feel more than a little dumb, but she seems to sense when his mood drops and will lick his hand to try and cheer him up.

She reminds him a little of Sam, to be honest, but he would never say that to his brother’s face.

When their session is over, Dean doesn’t want to leave her. He knows they’re going to be back soon, but he’s already attached. He shouldn’t be attached. He shouldn’t have let his guard down. Last time he did that, he had to leave his new friend behind with a couple of hippy freaks and even though he knew they would take good care of him, it hurt. He doesn’t want to go through that again.

“Are you feeling better about this?” Cas asks when Dean is reluctantly seated in the passenger seat of the Impala. A strong arm falls over Dean’s shoulder, offering a hand which he happily takes.

“I don’t want to go,” Dean admits. Sam’s still chatting with Amanda. He can hear his brother’s deep tones through the window. “I don’t want to leave her.”

“Just a week or two more and she can come home with us,” Cas assures him.

“I know, I just… I don’t want to wait that long. What if something happens and she can’t come home with us?”

“Nothing will happen, Dean. We’ll be back tomorrow to practice some more and we can work on stuff at home. The more you practice, the sooner she can come to the bunker. Right?” he gives Dean’s hand a squeeze.

“Right,” Dean mumbles as Sam gets into the car.

* * *

Dean’s feeling pretty motivated when he gets home and he makes Cas quiz him on all the commands he learned from Amanda. He wants to be as prepared as possible for their session tomorrow because Cas is right. The sooner Dean learns this stuff, the sooner Lady can come home with them, the better Dean will feel.

* * *

It only takes Dean a week to get everything down and when Amanda says they can take Lady home, Dean almost cries tears of joy. If someone had told him a year ago that he would be this excited about having a dog, he would have laughed in their face. Now, he doesn’t even mind the dusty paw prints she’s probably leaving all over the backseat of the Impala and his jeans. He chose to sit in the back with her, where he can scratch her ears and let her lick his face and tell her all about her new home, all while ignoring the sickeningly fond smile he knows Cas keeps sending his way.

When they get to the bunker, Dean lets Lady take her time exploring. He shows her the bed in the corner of the bedroom he shares with Cas and the food bowls in the kitchen. She’s already housebroken- kinda had to be in order to continue onto her guide dog training- so he puts reminders into his phone to take her out at regular intervals.

Cas got all the gear they need, including toys, her vest and the handlebar thingie, and enough food to last at least a month, but probably longer. He picked a food that’s certified people-grade or something, so it has real nutrients and will be better for her than regular dog food. Dean rolls his eyes at that- Cas has clearly been spending too much time with Sam- but he doesn’t complain. Anything to take better care of her.

She’s only been home a day and Dean never wants her to leave.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

Dean hates when Sam is gone.

It’s just him and Cas in the bunker right now and while the privacy is nice- he’s never been tied to a table before, but the ones in the library are very sturdy and Cas is nothing if not creative- not even really good sex can distract Dean from worrying about his brother for very long.

Even if it’s just for a run.

“How far is Sam running?” Dean asks. He’s sitting on top of one of the dryers while Cas loads clothes into the washer. Lady is sitting at Dean’s feet, occasionally nudging his ankle with her nose as if she’s checking up on him. That’s probably exactly what she’s doing. The laundry room of the bunker was definitely made to accommodate a lot of people. The boys have upgraded one set of appliances, but they don’t really need more than that and the rest are still ancient models that somehow still work. Dean blames magic.

“Far,” Cas chuckles. “I did not ask for specifics. But he should not be gone too much longer.”

“He’s been gone longer and longer every morning. Maybe he’s not running? Maybe there’s something else going on?”

“Like what?” Cas asks. “A woman?”

“Maybe.”

A hand lands on Dean’s knees, solid and reassuring. “I’m fairly sure there is no woman. Sam mentioned a few days ago that he’s been pushing himself to run further. I’m not sure why, but it seems to make him happy, so who am I to judge?”

Dean rolls his eyes at Cas’ explanation. “There’s definitely a girl.”

“Whatever you say.” Sharp hips slot between his thighs. “Are you recovered enough for another round?”

* * *

Sam returns after they’ve returned to their room. Dean’s almost a little surprised to find his brother in the kitchen when he emerges half an hour later.

“He lives!” Dean says, trying to hide his concern behind a joke.

“Funny, Dean.”

“Seriously, dude, what’s her name?”

“Whose name?” Sam sighs, sitting at the table.

“You know who.”

“No, I don’t.”

Dean shakes a finger at him. “Don’t play stupid with me, Sammy. There’s a girl and she’s got you whipped. Tell me all about her.”

“You’re like a high schooler,” Sam replies. “There’s no girl.”

“Uh-huh. Then how do you explain your increasingly long absences every morning?”

“I’m running, Dean.”

“No one likes running that much.”

“I do.”

“I call bull.”

“Dean.”

“Sam.”

He hears Sam huff in classic little brother style. “Fine. I’m training for a marathon.”

That’s not what Dean was expecting him to say at all.

“A marathon. I know you know what that is, dude. There’s a big one a few towns over in a few weeks and I’ve already signed up to compete. I was going to wait until like a week before to tell you guys.”

Dean’s a little hurt that Sam felt like he had to keep this from them. “Why didn’t you tell us when you decided to do it?”

“I dunno,” Sam mumbles. “I guess I was just worried I wouldn’t be able to be ready in time and I didn’t want to get you guys hyped up in case I had to drop out. But I ran the full distance this morning and I’m still standing, so I’m definitely going to be ready.”

Dean grins across the table at his brother. “You’re gonna kick it in the ass.”

“Yeah,” Sam chuckles.

“Let Cas know when it is so he can put it in his calendar, okay? Otherwise we’ll miss it.”

“Wait, you want to come?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Duh. You’re my little brother. It’s my job to be supportive.”

* * *

They have to get up far too early the morning of the marathon, but Dean doesn’t complain. Sam’s a weird mix of nervous and excited that Dean thinks is adorable, but he doesn’t say anything. Dean’s nervous, too, but it’s because this is his first time going out in public with Lady and he has a feeling it’s going to be really crowded. He’s glad Cas is going to be with him.

They drop Sam off at the starting line, where he gets his number and spends some time stretching. Dean teases him, but he doesn’t mean it. Sam’s been working hard and he’s really excited about this. After the race starts, Dean and Cas drive across the city to the finish line, following the course the best they can to get an idea of just how long it is- really fucking long. Nothing on that end is really set up and it’s gonna be a while before the crowd really starts to form, so they hit a local diner for breakfast. Lady tucks herself neatly under the table. She’s so quiet that Dean almost forgets she’s there until she puts her chin on his knees when he gets his bacon. He has a feeling she’s giving him puppy eyes that could rival Sam’s.

“Really?” he laughs, patting her head with the hand not holding a slice of bacon.

She licks his hand.

“Fine.”

“You shouldn’t really feed her table food,” Cas says even as Dean breaks a piece of bacon in half and feeds Lady a piece.

“She’s working hard. She deserves a treat.”

“Just don’t make a habit of it.”

Dean makes a face at his boyfriend, but he doesn’t really mean it. He knows Cas means well.

After breakfast, they head back over to the park where the marathon will end. They find a park bench to sit on for a while, where Cas can watch the people milling around the finish line. Sam told Dean about how important spectators are- apparently he did some much smaller runs in college. The spectators help to keep the runners going, which is really important, especially in the last legs of the race. Dean’s ready to cheer Sam on.

It’s still over two hours before the spectators at the line start to get rowdy. Cas drags Dean and Lady over, somehow getting them right to the barrier. Dean leans against it, tilting his head to listen as he hears the runners getting closer. The sound of that is soon drowned out by the cheering of the spectators and Dean can’t help joining in. He doesn’t know who they’re cheering for, but he’s proud of anyone who’s managed to make it the entire distance.

“Here comes Sam,” Cas whispers in Dean’s ear after what feels like forever.

“Yeah! Sam!” Dean yells, hearing Cas cheering along with him. “You can do it!”

Suddenly Cas yanks Dean away from the barrier and brings him around to the finish line, just in time for Sam to practically collapse against his shoulder.

“Hi, Dean,” Sam gasps.

“You did it!” Dean says, yanking his brother into a sweaty, disgusting hug. “Sammy, you did it!”

Sam laughs breathlessly and hugs him back. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. 4 hours, 53 minutes, 39 seconds,” he pants with a smile stretched from ear to ear.

“Come on, let’s get you some water and do whatever you need to do, and then we can go get you some food, little brother. You’ve gotta be starving.”


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

It’s been three weeks since the marathon and five weeks since Sam last went on a hunt.

Dean realizes that one morning when he and Lady come into the library and finds Sam on the phone with Claire, walking her through how to take down a djinn and advising her to call in backup. Dean leans against a pillar and listens to his brother with a smile.

“You sound like Bobby,” he says when Sam is finished with the conversation.

Sam laughs quietly, but Dean knows the words hit him. “Really?”

Dean nods and moves to ruffle Sam’s hair. “Yeah.”

“I’ve been thinking about him lately- about how he helped other hunters, without ever really going out himself. We have all his books still in that storage locker in Sioux Falls. We could add them to the bunker library and make this into a resource for hunters across the country…what do you think?”

“I really like that idea,” Dean says and he means it. He rounds the table and slides into a seat across from his brother. Lady tucks herself under his chair. She doesn’t need to follow him around the bunker, since he knows it so well now, but she does anyway. He doesn’t mind.“Wanna talk specifics?”

“Specifics?”

“Yeah. How would this work? We would probably need more phone lines, so how would we go about getting those set up? Stuff like that.”

“That’s a long list,” Sam says honestly.

“It is. We better get started.”

* * *

It turns out to be a really,  _really_  long list. They start with bringing all the books they were able to salvage from Bobby’s house to the library, where Sam organizes them onto the empty shelves he and Cas put together. Next is making sure the bunker can provide for a large number of people at the same time. They test out all the old washers and dryers in the laundry room, making sure they all work (somehow they all do, which Dean isn’t even going to try and explain). Sam checks all the plumbing in the bathrooms.

Once the amenities and such are up to par, they clean bedrooms. They decide to only do a hallway because they probably won’t need the entire bunker worth of rooms right away. Dean’s not even sure they would use them all if they had every hunter in America staying with them at the same time, so there’s no point in cleaning every single one right this minute.

The bunker has bedding already, thankfully. There’s a stack on top of every dresser that he gathers up and puts in the laundry. They’re going to have to come up with some kind of system for keeping bedding clean, as well as for paying for the laundry detergent. Perhaps each hunter that comes to stay can leave a small donation in order to fund the bunker? Stolen credit cards can only buy so much and Dean knows how messy hunters are from experience.

He also knows how much they can eat. He invests in some much larger pots and pans, as well as a large number of cheap dishes from Ikea of all places. Sam finds piles of folding chairs somewhere and stashes them in a closet between the kitchen and library, so an extra chair is never too far away. They already have a decent sized fridge, so storing enough food shouldn’t be a problem.

After two weeks of work, they decide the bunker is as ready as it’s going to get. Now they need rules. A system. There has to be a way to vet the hunters they allow in, both the kind of people they are and whether they’re even really people. There’s also the matter of keeping things stocked.

“We’ll just have to vet them the best we can using information from hunters we trust,” Sam decides. “It’s not like there’s a hunter social media or something we can dig through.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees. The three of them are in the war room, Sam making lists and notes on their chalkboard. Lady has tucked herself under the table with her chin on Dean’s knee so he can scratch her ears.

“Now, what about supplies?” Cas pipes up. “It’s impractical to expect us to be able to provide what everyone needs at all times.”

“What if,” Dean says slowly, happy to present the idea he’s had brewing in the back of his mind for a week, “we have the hunters bring stuff? Say, they have to call when they get to town and while they’re there, we’ll give them suggestions of things we’re running low on? Then they just get what they can?”

“I like that,” Sam agrees. “We’ll have to stay on top of things, keeping track of food and toiletries, but I think that could work. What do you think, Cas?”

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea.”

Dean feels a small surge of pride. “Awesome.”

“How do we want to get the word out? Just have the girls help spread it?” Sam sits down across from Dean and taps his pen against the tabletop.

“That’s really the best method,” Dean replies, scratching Lady’s ears absentmindedly. “Word will spread slowly, which will give us time to get used to having more people around. If everyone found out at once, we would be overwhelmed.”

“Yeah, good point. I’ll call Jody.”

* * *

It’s a little while before the first hunters show up. They meet a guy named Elvis who’s a bit of a Sam fan- why Sam always gets stuck with the crazy fans, Dean doesn’t know- and his hunting partner, Bucky. A married couple named Cesar and Jesse stop by for a couple days, bearing fresh produce. Donna and Jody can only stay for one night, but Jody loads them up with enough toilet paper to last at least a month. Charlie pops in once. Eileen comes to visit and ends up staying- Dean was wondering when that would happen. He might be blind, but he’s not stupid. He knows how Sam looks at her, even if he can’t see it with his own eyes.

One pair of visitors Dean really likes are the Banes twins, a pair of sibling hunters raised by a white witch. Max is a flirt clearly crushing on Sam and Eileen, and Dean has a sense that the feelings are not entirely one-sided, but that’s not his problem. When both Eileen and Max emerge from Sam’s room one morning, it’s not Dean’s place to judge and as long as Sam’s happy, he doesn’t care what happens behind closed doors.

Dean was a little nervous about having so many people- particularly strangers- coming and going, but everyone is pretty respectful once they realize that being blind definitely doesn’t make Dean helpless or any less of a Winchester, and that Lady is not for petting when she’s wearing her vest, though some newer visitors still struggle with that last one.

There are a few hunters that come to stay and aren’t invited back, unfortunately. The ones who are overly violent- there’s a few that remind Dean of Gordon Walker- or the ones that don’t respect the sexualities of the bunker’s permanent residents- the first guy who makes a comment about Sam, Max, and Eileen gets Dean’s fist in his nose and leaves a few hours later. They keep the beer he brought.

Eventually, though, things get into a steady rhythm. The boys spend a lot of their days manning the phones- Sam in particular likes this job when it requires research. Even after all this time, he’s still a nerd. Dean’s happy to take over the phone if it means playing someone’s FBI supervisor or whatever it is they need to verify their story with the local law enforcement, but he also enjoys helping Sam figure out cases. They’re still hunting, in a way, but they’re doing more of the intellectual side of things, in true Men of Letters fashion.

Sam still likes to get out in the field on occasion- usually on cases further from the bunker, so he doesn’t make himself memorable to the locals- and Cas goes with him. Dean doesn’t mind. He keeps busy taking care of the bunker. With so many people coming and going, there’s always something to do. It’s given Dean a new purpose and he loves it. He genuinely loves it. If someone had suggested when he first lost his sight that this is what his life would be like, he would have thought they were crazy. Now, though, Dean’s not sure when he last felt this satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only one more chapter! OMG!
> 
> Update (7/17): Final chapter has not gone up yet because I decided it wasn't good enough and have been reworking it. I plan to have it up this upcoming Friday, the 20th. Thank you for being patient!


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight

It’s been more than a few months since retirement and falling in love, and Sam’s not sleeping. To say Dean is concerned would be an understatement.

Eileen and Max are on a hunt without him. Sam would have gone with them, Dean knows, but Jesse and Cesar needed his help and Cas is on a hunt with Claire. So they’re gone and Sam’s nightmares are back, but Dean has a plan.

Right now, Sam is in the library, probably buried in another book because he’s a weirdo that can’t get enough of them. Dean loves that about his brother, but he won’t say that to Sam’s face.

“Hiya, Sammy,” Dean says, pushing a bottle of beer toward Sam with a little more power than is necessary. He might be blind but he knows Sam’s size and dimensions enough to know the bottle is near his face. Sam’s been elbow deep in research with Jesse and Cesar for the last week and Dean thinks he deserves a break, even though Sam probably won’t take one. With the threat of being hit in the face with it, Sam has no other choice but to take the beer from his brother. “How’re you doing?”

Sam dodges Dean's hand and takes the beer. “Pretty good. Turned out to be a shapeshifting witch, which is a new one, but Jesse and Cesar got it and no one got hurt. They’re on their way back now. I asked them to pick up a big box of eggs.”

“Awesome. Gotta stock up on protein.”

“Garth’s coming to visit and he promised to bring laundry detergent. He should be here in a day or two. Will we have enough to last until then?”

“Oh yeah.” Dean takes his usual chair across from his brother. “And all of our towels and bedding just got washed this morning, so we should be fine.”

“Great.” Sam sits back in his chair. “I need a nap.”

“Then take a nap. I know you’ve been having nightmares again, what with Eileen and Max gone.” Dean waves his own beer a little as he talks, gesturing to the empty library.

Sam sighs. “Yeah. I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Ya know what we should do next?” Dean asks, setting his feet up on the table and taking a swig of his beer.

“What?” Sam asks.

“We should get you your own service dog.”

“My own?”

“Yeah. Cas and I did some digging, and they train service dogs for people who’ve been through traumatic experiences. I’d say you’ve been through plenty of traumatic shit. We could get one of those for you.”

When Sam speaks, it’s slowly. “What would you say if I told you I’ve already been going to regular training sessions for a PTSD service dog?”

* * *

 

Two weeks later, Sam brings Blue home. The big Chesapeake Bay retriever is pretty much the perfect fit for Sam, in Dean’s opinion, and the younger brother dotes on his new companion. Blue is a bit of an attention whore, but that’s okay. Everyone loves him, so there’s more than enough love to go around.

It’s a quiet night in the bunker. Jody and Donna retired early since they need to head out early. Charlie has buried herself under a mound of blankets in the new TV room and is introducing a pretty young hunter named Beth to Game of Thrones (though Dean’s not sure any TV watching is actually happening and he’s not about to go check). Dean is sprawled in one library chairs, socked feet resting in Cas’s lap. Lady is sleeping between them, which is really impressive with the amount of noise Sam and his lovers are making.

All five of them are a little tipsy and Dean can’t remember the last time he actually felt buzzed. He’s been drinking less lately, though, so his tolerance has probably decreased. It’s something that might have bothered him, once upon a time, but not anymore. He feels good.

“He’s gorgeous,” Cas is saying, admiring the big dog Dean thinks is trying to climb onto Max’s lap while Eileen giggles into her beer. “His coat is curly. How interesting.”

“I think it’s a water thing,” Sam says honestly. Max clumsily fends Blue off with some mumbled drunken cursing. Sam laughs and Dean hears the distinct sound of a Blue licking his face. “I’ll have to look into that.”

“It probably means he sheds more,” Dean says with false bitterness. Sam knows he’s just playing.

“You’re just jealous cos my dog’s better looking than yours,” Sam teases in return.

“Nuh-uh. Lady is the most beautiful dog in existence. You’re just an asshole.”

“Wow. Jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean finishes off his beer.

“Be nice,” Cas scolds, tickling the bottom of Dean’s foot.

“I’m perfectly nice!” Dean protests, kicking out. He catches Cas’s side and almost tips his own chair over, but Cas thankfully still has the reflexes of an angel and one hand around Dean’s ankle and the arm of the unsteady chair are enough to keep Dean upright.

“Karma,” Max snickers.

Dean wants to say something snarky or vaguely threatening in return, but Cas’s hand is solid and soothing on his shin, and Sam is laughing in a way Dean never thought he would ever hear again. Eileen whispers something Dean doesn’t pay attention to that sends Max into his own fit of laughter. The three are soon excusing themselves, though, and Dean just rolls his eyes.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he calls after them.

“That’s not a very long list,” Sam replies.

Cas snickers and Dean pouts. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I know,” Cas says, reaching over to squeeze Dean’s hand before standing. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Maybe. If you get me a new beer.” Dean waves his empty bottle and he can practically  _ hear _ Cas’s eyeroll. “Gimme one of those fancy ones Elvis brought when he was here last week.”

“Of course.” A soft kiss is dropped on his head and Cas murmurs, “Retirement looks good on you.”

Dean listens to him walk away, smiling to himself. Retirement  _ feels _ good, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is the end! Thank you so much for sticking with me, guys. I love reading all your comments and seeing how much you're enjoying the story I put several months of heart and soul into. I'm definitely not adverse to exploring this universe a little more, maybe touching on things that I wasn't able to or didn't think about. If you have ideas for timestamps or small future installments, please feel free to share!
> 
> <3 Kenzi


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